


Swan Song

by Cornmaize122



Category: Norse Mythology, The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Family, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Loki is a father, Loki retribution/redemption, Loki's Kids, Odin can be a jerk, Original Character Death(s), heritage REALLY counts here, my own twist on Norse mythology
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-31
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2017-11-11 03:56:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 54,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/474244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cornmaize122/pseuds/Cornmaize122
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hela always knew she was different. (It was kind of obvious.) She just didn't think her brand of different extended to the 'out of this world' kind of different. </p><p>Then one day a Norse god attacks Manhattan with an army of aliens in tow, and suddenly, nothing is quite the same anymore. </p><p>(Or, if further prodded, a story of retribution, redemption, reconciling, revenge, reincarnation, and the end of the world. Not necessarily in order.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Whelp. This is something new.
> 
> Not sure if this has been done before, but if it has… *shrug* Oh, well. 
> 
> This has a unique twist on the Norse myths surrounding Loki's kids. Some of the myths may have minor changes I made to them so that it would work with the story. I liked the idea, and thought it would be fun, and ran with it. So. Here we are.
> 
> And am I the only one that thinks Loki has a slight anger problem? Maybe because he's the god of fire? Either that or he's bipolar…
> 
> This can also be found on Fanfiction.net.
> 
> Enjoy! And remember: feedback feeds me. :)
> 
> TIP: At this point in the story, Fenrir is about four years old, Jormungandr is two years old, and Hel is a year old. In Asgardian terms.

"Allfather-"

"No."

"Please, if you would just reconsider-"

A sigh. "I said no."

"Father!" Voice cracked and desperate, fists clenched. "Please, they are my-"

"No. I said no, Loki, and that is final."

Loki looked between both Odin and Frigga, the former looking exhausted while sitting upon the golden throne and the latter having tears in her eyes but still not looking at him. The terrible feeling of being absolutely helpless made him feel so cold. Both of them, against him. Both of them, not willing to help him. Suddenly the unexpected hunting trip that Thor had been sent away on made much more sense. He would have come to Loki's defense.

…All this because of the murmurings of vain, cruel gods looking for someone to punish.

The black-haired god sucked in a shuddering breath and was grateful that the main hall was empty save for Odin, Frigga, the ravens Huginn and Muninn, and himself. He loathed feeling this weak and vulnerable. Swallowing his anger with all the willpower he had left, he looked to Frigga. "Mother, please, they are only children-"

She finally looked up with an anguished expression, eyes sparkling with unshed tears. Her hand rested on Odin's shoulder while the other twisted her skirt in knots. "I'm so sorry, Loki. We have no choice. The prophecy-"

All that tightly controlled anger snapped from its leash at the word. "I do not give a damn about that forsaken prophecy!" Loki snarled, taking a step forward as his face contorted in anger. "They are just children, you have no right punishing them for something that has not even happened yet, something that- that may not ever happen!"

Frigga looked shocked at his outburst, but Odin merely looked even more weary. "Be glad that I was able to refrain the other gods from simply killing your children, Loki."

A sneer found its way on Loki's face. "Oh, you mean like they how killed their mother without a second thought?"

As expected, Odin said nothing and Frigga looked away sniffling.

It felt good, oh so good, to let the wild burning run through his veins, better than the frigid cold, and he saw no reason to stop.

"You say that by sparing them you took mercy on them, but is casting them out from their home, their family, not the same thing? Throwing Jormungandr in the waters of Midgard? Binding Fenrir with Gleipnir and casting him into the Midgard forests to be hunted by mortals? Casting Hela into the cold halls of Helheim? That is mercy?"

Odin sighed, just barely enough to be heard. "Would you question the decreeing of the Norns, my son? You heard the prophecy. They are set to bring about Ragnarok-"

Loki slammed his fist on his chest hard enough to hurt as his anger burned like fire. "As am I. If you must, then banish me as well, but do not separate them from me. Please. I do not care if you cast us into the hall of Helheim to never emerge again, or Midgard to live a mortal life. But- please. Do not separate me from my children."

The Allfather's face did not change. "I am sorry, Loki. It is already done."

All the anger and hate drained away to cold nothingness at those last four words.

It was not possible. Odin was lying. Loki had put runes and charms of protection around his room, spun from his own magic. And there was no sorcerer in the Nine Realms better than himself, not even the very mages that had taught him.

And yet…

A bitter taste entered the trickster's mouth.

There was only one being who had the power to cancel out a particularly powerful rune: Odin.

Loki glared up at the throne at his father and let the Allfather see the betrayal and hate in his eyes before he was gone in a flash of green light.

Feet settling on solid ground again, the God of Mischief opened his eyes to the golden doors to his chambers. There was a deadly silence to the hall. The guards were gone, and he could not hear Fenrir's playful growls as he played with his younger brother or Hel's quiet giggling at her brother's antics.

With a moment of hesitation, he placed his hand on the cold doorknob and twisted it open.

And the first thing that Loki's eyes landed on was the empty golden cradle where his daughter had slept only hours earlier.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

On Midgard, France, late 1600s…

A woman opened her door of their small cottage to the cool, dark night, a lit candlestick in one hand. She squinted, trying to see the source of the knocking.

Behind her, her husband asks, "What is it?"

"I don't know."

She stepped out further and pulled her husbands rough wool coat around her tighter. Her bare feet nudged something soft.

Bending down, she gently unwrapped the bundle. It was a small sleeping girl, perhaps a year old, with dark black curls and smooth porcelain skin wrapped in an exquisite black cloak.

The woman, Eloise, smiled as she brushed hair back from the child's face. "And where did you come from, little one?"

As she spoke, the girl's eyes opened sleepily to reveal beautiful clear blue irises.

It was only later when she was giving the small child a bath that Eloise saw two things that had been hidden earlier:

The first was the discolored skin covering the girl from the waist down. The beautiful white skin that covered her upper body turned to dark, almost-bruised looking skin at her thighs and continued to her legs and feet. And yet she gave no indication that the bruised skin hurt.

The second was the delicate golden chain hanging from her neck. It had been hidden by the girl's oddly fashioned tunic earlier, but as she sat in the bathwater warmed by the fire, it sparkled in the firelight. Eloise reached out to clasp the small locket and smoothed her thumb over the intricate patterns engraved in it. Like the cloak, it something that her and her farmer husband would never have been able to afford with the little money they owned.

Eloise was about to open the locket, but the large hand of her husband on her shoulder stopped her. He sighed, bending down to press a kiss in her hair. "Are you sure you want to keep this child?"

"Of course."

"She will be looked upon in suspicion because of the coloring on her legs. They will call her a demon."

Eloise pursed her lips, gently scrubbing the cloth across the girl's back as she splashed the water with a small, somber smile. "And you would leave her in the cold because she is different?"

He sighed again, realizing that his wife had decided to keep the child and was not going to change her mind. Kneeling down beside the tub like his wife, he asked, "What's her name?"

Eloise hid her small, triumphant smile as she reached for the golden locket again. Being careful, she slid her nail between the two folds and opened the locket.

Inside, engraved in a graceful writing was one word:

Hela.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Present Day, Avengers Tower…

"Fury, we have a problem."

The director of SHIELD gave Steve Rogers a very pointed stare. "Oh really now? Well, what is it this time? Doom let loose Doombots on Central Park? Amora throwing a bitchfit for Thor? Loki painting a mustache on the Goddamned Statue of Liberty? What?"

Tony Stark leaned over to Bruce Banner and not-so-discreetly whispered, "Yeesh, bad day at SHIELD."

It was pretty impressive how lethal Fury could glare with only one eye.

Steve sent his own glare at Tony before clearing his throat. "Well, sir, it does have to do with Loki-"

Tony cut in as he leaned back on the leather couch in the main living room at Avengers Tower. "Thor had an epiphany today while Bruce and I were discussing Norse mythology. In short, Loki has kids."

Fury gave them a blank look. Then, "Why in the world would you bother me to tell me that? We did the research, Stark, we know and we could care less."

"They're here. On Earth. Well, three of them, anyway."

The director paused a moment before leaning in closer to the camera. "Care to explain, Thor?"

The Asgardian that had been sitting unusually quiet the entire time finally looked up. There was a disturbingly somber look on his face. "Centuries ago the Norns foretold of a new prophecy. It spoke of Ragnarok, the end of the Nine Worlds, being brought upon by Loki and three beings of chaos. Out of fear, the other Aesir begged my father to cast out Loki's children, for they were looked upon as monsters on Asgard due to their lineage and appearance. He cast them to Midgard and forbid Loki from seeing them, where they remained ever since."

Fury closed his eye, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You're telling me that when your father took out the trash, he dumped them here? On Earth?"

Thor was up in a flash, eyes hard and cold. "How dare you speak of my niece and nephews in such a manner. They were merely infants when they were wrongly judged-"

"You said it yourself, Thor, they're set to bring about the end of universe," the director snapped, cutting off the Asgardian. Sighing, he sat back in his chair. "So we've got the spawn of a lunatic super villain running around Earth doing God-knows-what?"

As Bruce talked quietly to Thor, trying to get him to calm down, Tony nodded with arms crossed. "Yeah, I'd say that pretty much sums it up."

"Great. Wonderful. Fan-fucking-tastic. Gentlemen, if you'll excuse me, I have to make a few calls. Agents Barton and Romanoff should be pulled in from their current mission and back in New York by tonight. Be prepared to be called out immediately."

With those last parting words, he cut the connection.

In the tense silence that followed, Tony looked from each of his team mates grim faces and grinned. "Oh, come on, guys, cheer up. I think he took that rather well, don't you?"


	2. I welcome the queen of the lowest world

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ganglot is Hel's maidservant and Ganglati is her manservant. So, like a bodyguard. Not much of anything is known of them, so I kinda winged it on their appearances. 
> 
> Helheim has nine different levels, but I couldn't find out exactly what was on each level, so I assumed that each level was a different amount of suffering.
> 
> Also, I read somewhere that Hel is Goddess of the Blues. So. That explains the blue.

Chapter 1: "I welcome the queen of the lowest world" ~ _Hel - Goddess of the Underworld_ , Hagalaz' Runedance

For as long as Hel can remember, she's had the same dream.

'Same', as in the fact that she's always in the same place as before. Each night she closes her eyes when she goes to bed and when she opens them she's in a different place than her bedroom.

Instead of the four walls of her current foster home room, she's in her hall, Elivdnir, which is at least the size of an Olympic swimming pool, and sitting on an elegant throne made of smoky marble. The floor is tiled in the deepest black tile she's ever seen, shining like water. The room is rectangular-shaped, with a ceiling consisting of stormy clouds brewing and slate grey walls decorated with bone carvings of tortured souls and bloody battles. Under normal circumstances, that may have been disturbing, but instead she finds that the amount of care and detail that went into them makes them beautiful.

Her throne sits against the back wall, facing the entrance to her hall. The one closest to Hel on her left is golden and engraved with ornate carvings. Bright white light shine from under it and if she listens hard enough she can hear the sounds of laughter and voices. It's Valhalla, where the warriors killed in battle go.

Then there are nine pure white doors with gold doorknobs. Each is a level of Helheim, as Ganglot told her the first time she came here. Depending on the sin each soul has committed in life, they will go through one of the nine doors. Each is a different level of death. The first one, the one on the other side of the Valhalla door, is where the souls who died outside of battle but were innocent went. This went on to the last pure white door, which was where the blackest of souls went.

The one set of gold engraved white double doors across the long room was the entrance to Helheim. It sat directly across the big room from her throne. Hela's never been allowed to leave the confines of Elivdnir, which Ganglot assured her was for her own safety. The only time the entrance to Helheim has ever opened was when a new soul entered to wait for its judgment.

It's the same every night.

When she opens her eyes to the throne room sitting on her throne, she's wearing an odd black dress that almost drapes over her stick thin figure and comes to her knees. She hates it because it shows the damned odd bruised discoloring of her legs. There's a silver crown on her head with sapphires decorating it. It's a small delicate thing, and she loves it. It makes her feel powerful, important.

To her right is her maid servant, Ganglot, in servants' garb, white hair pulled back in a braid and grey eyes blank. On Hel's left is Ganglati, her manservant. He wears dull black and silver warriors armor, his long silver hair pulled back in a leather cord and a sharp sword at his side along with several daggers. Both of them stand at attention, hands behind their backs and blank grey eyes ahead. Neither speaks a word unless spoken to first.

And each night the room is full of souls.

Transparent and listless, they walk forward one at a time to await their judgment. As Hel looks down at them from her throne, she can just know which door they need to go through. So a soul will step forward, she'll look at them once, _know_ which door that awaits them, and then point wordlessly to the door. Then they'll walk to their sentence.

Usually they go without saying a word in protest, but on the occasion that she points an evil soul to the last ninth door, the worst one, the soul will cause a fuss. She remembers on one occasion that a particularly violent soul – _a man, murderer and liar, killer of four women_ – lunged for her on her throne. Before she even had time to blink and register it, Ganglati has moved to fast to see and had swung his sword through the soul. Instead of blood and guts splayed across the beautiful black floors, the soul simply vanished into smoke. It didn't go through it's door. It didn't scream. It ceased to exist.

Hela didn't like the thought of simply ceasing to exist.

But Ganglati had quietly resumed his position like it was nothing, and the next soul stepped forward.

That was how it was each night.

The logical part of her knew that this all was simply a dream, an odd dream, probably spurring from her odd Norse name. After all, why would she dream every night that she truly was the goddess of Helheim? Norse gods didn't exist, but she liked to pretend that each night she truly was the mythical Hel. She liked feeling important, powerful, godly. And when it was all over, she'd stop playing pretend and wake up and return to being her normal human self.

At times it was depressing to hold that much power and then lose it when she opened her eyes. But she had the comfort of knowing that the next night she'd be able to go back.

It was a cycle. Living her normal human self during the day, and pretending she was a goddess by night.

Then, one night, the cycle was broken.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When she opened her eyes this time, the throne room was empty.

Hel notices with a small amount of fascination that the room is really larger looking when its empty of souls. First she turns to her right to look to Ganglot for answers, but her maidservant isn't her usual stoic self. Her grey eyes are wide and nervous while her posture is stiff and her mouth is set in a grim line.

Then Hela turns to Ganglati to see his state. The man servant is clutching his sword in front of him, the tip digging into the floor and hands on the hilt. His face is blank as ever, but his eyes are hard and his jaw is set.

Something is wrong.

A rumble of thunder breaks her thoughts and Hel looks upward at the stormy ceiling. Instead of the usual overcast gray clouds, there's thunderclouds brewing, with flashes of lighting arching through the ceiling and booms of thunder.

 _Odd_ , she thought. _It's never done that before._

"Ganglot, Ganglati, could you please stand in front of me?"

They obediently do what she says. She sits back in her throne to look at them with a curious gaze. Neither of them look at her. "What's wrong? Something's different."

Both of her servants share a glance.

And Hela gets the feeling that they talk when she's not around. Wait, was that even possible in a dream? To have your make-believe servants gossip when you're not even having the dream?

She couldn't see a big, stout man like Ganglati gossiping with little petite Ganglot. Heck, she hadn't even heard him say a word before.

"Your Highness…"

Ganglot's soft voice broke Hel out of her thoughts and to attention. "Yeah? I mean, yes?" Some goddess she acted like, huh?

Ganglot bit her lip. "…There are things happening in Asgard."

One of Hel's dark eyebrows raised just the tiniest bit. Asgard? Wow, her imagination was more impressive than she thought if it was bringing another fictional realm into this dream.

A deep, gravelly voice said, "The realms are changing, my Queen."

Hel blinked, surprised at the new voice, before she realized just where it came from and her blue eyes zeroed in on Ganglati. "So you _can_ talk."

He gave the tiniest of snorts, still staring past her shoulder.

She felt her lips twitch just a little but remained focused on the topic. "The _realms_ are changing?" This just kept getting better and better…

Ganglot lowered her eyes to the ground. "Yes, Your Highness."

That eyebrow began to inch it's way back up her forehead. "Care to explain?"

Again, her servants shared a look. Ganglot looked back to her. "I'm sorry, Your Highness, but we are sworn into silence on the matter."

Hel resisted the urge to roll her eyes because it wasn't something a goddess would do, right? It was more of something that her fourteen year-old self would do. But she did _look_ fourteen in her dreams, too, so maybe it was okay…?

She sighed. "Of course you can't." Her hand came up to tuck hair behind her ear again. "That's all, thank you."

Once again, her servants moved to their spots on either side of her. And the night was spent listening to the rumbling of thunder.

The next night, things were back to normal.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And it stayed that way for a week. The ceiling still rumbled and flashed with lightning, but the souls returned and Hel handed out sentences each night.

Then she opened her eyes once more to find the room empty save for herself and her servants.

That eyebrow raised on its own accord again. "Ganglot-"

Before she could finished, the double doors directly across from her throne flung themselves open. Ganglati was in front of her in a flash with his sword held high and Ganglot was at her side with small daggers tucked in her hands behind her back. Wait, where did she even hide those?

Beyond the entrance to Helheim was pitch black darkness. Fog rolled in from the darkness.

Then a figure stepped out of the shadows.

Her servants visibly tensed at the sight of the man. He was tall and slim, dressed in what she'd seen in a rock concert once. Or something similar to it. That was a lot of leather and green, either way. He had pale, alabaster skin and slicked back black hair, the same color as Hel's (despite what people at school thought, _no_ , she did not dye it, it was that way naturally). What stood out most was his piercing green eyes that sparkled and his bright smile.

Something niggled in the back of her head that told her she should know who this was.

The man stepped further into the room as the double doors swung shut by themselves. The blue flames lighting the room flickered. Ganglati tensed further like he was going to lunge at the man.

And yet the man just kept staring at her and _smiling_.

Hel was starting to take her sanity into questioning if this was what her imagination was cooking up.

The man dropped his smile and stopped a few feet out of Ganglati's reach, kneeling down on one knee with one hand on his heart and saying in an almost British accent, "Greetings, Queen Hel."

Hela raised one eyebrow. She was doing that a lot lately. Instead of saying, 'Uh, hi?' like she wanted to, she said flatly, "Hello?"

He cracked a small smile, eyes dancing with amusement and something she couldn't identify. "May I ask that you call off your servants so we may hold a civil conversation?"

She tapped one nail on the arm of her marble throne. "First, who are you?"

The man stood back up and gave a small bow. "I am Loki, of Asgard." Something in the way he said it sounded sour.

Hel racked her brain, trying to remember all the facts she'd dug up on Norse mythology. Loki? God of Mischief, Lies, and fire. Father of _several_ kids, one of which included-

Oh.

Herself.

She blinked. Well, now what? Keep up her roleplay and give the guy a hug and act like he was her dad? Pretend like she knew nothing of it? Jesus, what if she screwed up in her own dream by picking the wrong choice?

"All I ask from you is a little of your time. I promise I will not harm you."

Hela stared at him hard, trying to figure out if he expected a hug from her. Then something in that sentence registered in her head. "You promise? Aren't you the God of Lies?"

Instead of answering her question, he tilted his head a little with a…hopeful look? "So you remember me?"

She shook her head. "No, I've never met you before. I just know that from Google." Oh, screw it. She just got out of role. Goddesses don't use the Internet.

Loki seemingly didn't even hear that last part as a disappointed but resigned expression crossed his face. Then just as quick as it appeared it was replaced by a blank mask. Again he gestured to the still hostile Ganglati and Ganglot. "I am a man of my word, my lady, and I promise not to hurt you." A small wry smile appeared on his face. "That is the last thing I would even imagine doing, I swear."

Hela still felt wary, but part of her _knew_ that he was telling the truth and that he could trust him. Just like she _knew_ where each soul was destined. With a small sigh, she said, "Ganglati, Ganglot, it's fine. There's no threat."

Her servants glanced at each other but made no indication that they were moving. She wondered if they had some sort of telepathic connection. Figured.

A little more forcefully, she ordered, "Return to your posts, _both_ of you."

Reluctantly, they did.

When they were back at her side, Loki stepped forward with a hand held out. Ganglati tensed again and the God of Lies shot a glare at him. Returning those green eyes to her, he offered her a small smile. "Would you like to go for a walk, my lady?"

Hela stared at him. Walk? _Where_? They were in a rectangular room that only had one door they could go through without dying, and it was forbidden from her. But maybe she could go outside with him?

So with piqued interest, Hel took his cold hand and let him help her down the three marble steps from her throne.

Instead of letting go like she thought he would, he let her to the wall directly behind Ganglot. Loki touched the wall with one glowing green hand and like a mirage a silver door appeared. Hela gave it a wary look. _Another_ freaking door. She looked up to Loki. "So where does this one go?"

There was still a small smile on his lips that looked almost affectionate. "This hall is not the only part of this realm."

She barely had time to think ' _What?_ ' before he opened the door and pulled her through it.

Hela blinked.

They stood in a long hallway that was basically the same as her throne room. Shining black floor, slate grey walls, blue torches hung on the walls to light it up. The only difference was that it was a hallway and that the doors lining the hallway were wooden oak.

Loki let go of her hand almost reluctantly and looked at her expectantly. "You have never been here before?"

She shook her head, at a loss for words. She was going to have a talk with Ganglot about this later. It was _her_ realm and she hadn't even known it _existed_. Leave it to her imagination to keep things from her.

Hel snapped out of her train of thoughts when she felt herself being stared at. Loki continued to look at her expectantly, hands clasped behind his back. She cleared her throat awkwardly. "Um. So about that walk?"

He smiled.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was actually a lot more fun than she would have thought at first. Once they had walked for awhile she got more comfortable and began actually talking to Loki. They walked aimlessly through the halls while talking quietly.

He asked her to tell him about herself, and Hel found herself telling him about not just what she did here in dreamland but her real life, too. How she had lived with foster parents her entire life and had only one friend because she usually scared everyone away. How she knew nothing of her real parents. How she'd more than once been shunned and had holy water flicked at her by one Catholic foster parent couple a few years ago.

Something about him made her just _trust_ him. She didn't feel threatened or in danger. She felt…at ease. It was odd. She was used to only feeling that way with her best friend Bobby and here in the dream, where she didn't have to worry about losing control on her emotions or being judged. And besides, it was a dream, so what was the worst that could happen if she spilled her thoughts to a figment of her imagination? This was better than a therapist.

Throughout it Loki simply remained silent, asking a few questions here and there.

As they walked, she felt her eyes grow heavy which was a sign that her dream was coming to an end. Instead of returning to the throne room, they stopped in front of a door at the dead end of one hall. Hela stopped talking in favor of eyeing the door. "Why'd we stop here?"

Loki hummed. "Well, I thought you might be tiring as this night is drawing to a close. Is it not?"

Without answering Hel opened the door and stepped inside. It was a large bedroom with a four post bed that had dark grey velvet drapes hanging from it. There was also a small beside table with a silver goblet and wooden desk against the wall. The bed looked awfully tempting.

So she kicked off her almost Greek-like sandals without any ceremony and plopped down on the edge of the bed. Damn, it was soft.

Loki pulled the chair out from the desk, placing it beside the bed and sitting down while Hela ran her hand across the soft cotton sheets of the bed. A bitter taste entered her mouth when she noticed how much the bruise coloring of her legs stood out amongst the stark white sheets. It was so ugly, so _unnatural_.

A soft voice asked, "Is something wrong?"

Hela looked up and felt the world tilt on its axis. Loki was looking at her with an almost _worried_ look. When was the last time someone besides Bobby had looked at her that way? A memory of her foster home agent came up, the woman's face crinkled as she stared at Hel and tried to figure out why she'd been rejected by yet another foster family. And she didn't think the woman was worried about what would happen to Hel but rather how it would affect her job.

Hel suppressed a shudder. It was a weird feeling, knowing someone was worried about you.

Then a thought struck her. Oh, God. Did he really think she was his _daughter_?

While that would be awesome, being a real goddess and daughter of a god and all, she couldn't help but feel more than a little uncomfortable. But why?

It was then that she realized she'd just been staring back at Loki, and she nearly blushed. Nearly.

"Nothing, it's just that… Well, um, you know… My legs." She gestured to the weird coloring.

The God of Lies barely glanced at the discoloring, unlike most people who stared. "And what about it? Does it ail you?"

Hel guessed he was asking if it hurt. Come on, who said 'ail' anymore? "Um, no, not really. It just… It's not natural." _It's ugly._

Loki smiled, but it wasn't mocking. It was more… Something between amused and comforting. It almost made her want to smile back, like they were sharing a private joke. "Natural?"

Hela nodded as her hands smoothed out the hem of her dress. "You know, a natural skin color." She gestured to the pale skin on her arms. "Like this."

He sighed with a faraway look in his eyes. After a moment, Loki asked, "What if I told you that there was a way to hide it?"

"If you mean covering it up, I've already done that. I don't swim or wear shorts and I have an F in gym because I don't dress out in the ridiculous uniforms-"

"I mean with magic."

Hel stopped, torn between laughing or crying. Maybe she could do a little of both. Leave it to her imagination to dangle false hope in front of her face.

Without even waiting for a reply, Loki did some weird gesture with his hand, almost like pulling something from the air, and suddenly he held a small golden bracelet.

She stared. "Woah. Holy shi- Even for a dream, that was pretty impressive."

He chuckled softly. "Thank you. That was a mere party trick compared to the true extent that my magic can reach." A pause. "Do you really believe that this is a dream? Right now?"

Hela nodded absently as she focused on the little bracelet. "Yeah, weird as it is. I have a really screwed up imagination." She hesitated. "Can I… Can I see that?"

If she had been watching, she would have seen the small broken expression that crossed his face. It lasted for only a second before being replaced by a mask as he dropped it into her palm. "Of course. It is for you."

She froze in her examinations of the bracelet. "Um, that's okay, I really couldn't-"

Loki met her gaze evenly. "If this is truly a dream as you say it is, then why refuse a gift that does not even exist?"

The teenager didn't know what to say to that. So she focus back on the bracelet to chase away the spooky feeling that came with the implications of those words.

Despite being made of what she assumed was real gold, it was relatively light weight. The small links sparkled in the blue torchlight of the room. Dangling from the chain were four small golden charms. The first one was a howling wolf, the second a coiled snake, the third a skull, and the last a ball of fire.

That annoying feeling of recognizing something but not knowing from where took over again. She didn't particularly like that there was a charm of fire on there – she had a completely irrational fear of fire – but reminded herself that it wasn't real and that it couldn't hurt her.

Biting her lip, Hela carefully pulled the chain around her wrist and clasped it. No sooner than her fingers had left the clasp, she felt a tingle shoot over her skin from her wrist.

She blinked. _Well, that was weird._

Then she saw her legs and all the air left her lungs.

Instead of the ugly bruising there was smooth, pale skin.

"What. The. Hell."

Bobby would have been making some corny joke about her cursing her own name right now.

Loki hummed, not meeting her eyes. "Do you like it?"

Hel stared at him. "Like it? I _love_ it. _Jesus_." She ran her hands over her skin lightly like she was afraid it was just makeup and that if she brushed too hard it would rub away. "Thank you. God. Thank you."

The God of Mischief smiled a little at her awe. "You are very welcome." For a few moments he let her revel in the gift a little longer before he said in a soft voice, "I believe our time here together has come to an end, my lady."

Hela looked up at that. The flash of disappointment she felt in herself surprised her. She swallowed thickly, still fingering the bracelet. "Well… Will I see you again?" What a stupid question, this was a dream…

He smiled a little wider, green eyes sparkling. "Yes, I plan on making it happen."

And for that reason she couldn't explain, she smiled back.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Hel felt herself sinking back into consciousness in the plush bed in her dream, she could've sworn she felt something cold just barely brush her temple. Then she opened her eyes to her bedroom in her current foster home.

Blinking away the sleep, she sat up and touched the spot on her temple that tingled. Sitting still for a moment, her mind sorted through the tangled mess of memories from her dreams. _Well, that was out of the ordinary._

Suddenly something banged on her door and Hel jumped. "The bus gets here in fifteen minutes, Helen. Wake up and get ready for school."

The teenager scowled at her bedroom door even though she knew her foster mother couldn't see it. That _wasn't_ her name- Without warning some dark emotion grasped her heart and squeezed. Hela's fingers twisted in the sheets of the bed and she shut her eyes, taking deep breaths.

After a moment the anger passed and her fists unclenched from the bed sheets as cool emptiness flooded through her.

Hel sighed. She really should take her medication. But she knew she wasn't bipolar, that was just how her emotions worked, only no one besides Bobby listened to her and they all made her think something was wrong with her when there _wasn't_ anything wrong. They all tried to change her, change her name, her appearance, her _self_ -

_Stop._

Hela bit her lip hard to stop the urge to smash something.

Setting her thoughts on autopilot to stop another episode, she swung her legs out of the bed and set her feet on the floor to ground herself. Same as every morning, her eyes traveled down to her discolored feet-

And stopped.

Because her skin was a normal, pale color.

Hel's blue eyes zeroed in on the very real bracelet on her wrist.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that day after school was out, Hel practically dragged Bobby in her foster parent's house. Without even giving him a warning, she opened her bedroom door and shoved him inside and slammed the door shut behind her.

And the whole time he talked a mile blue streak. "You're scaring me here, Hel, really you haven't said anything _all fucking day_ , and while I know chatting isn't really your thing, you at least say something, tell me to shut up, call me an idiot or a jerk, but-"

"Bobby," she said as she tossed her backpack in the corner, "shut up."

He ran a shaking hand through his dark blonde hair, face twitching and fingers tapping an odd rhythm on his leg as he plopped down on her unmade bed. "Sorry, no can do, you know how I am when I'm nervous, and you're _really_ making me nervous-"

Hel threw an old towel she'd used three days ago at him and it landed on his head. "Don't look, I'm changing. If you look, I'll castrate you." But even without the threat she knew he wouldn't.

"Wow, would you believe me if I said I didn't know what that means? But it sounds unpleasant, so I'll just sit here. Why couldn't you do this, like, in the bathroom, again? Unless you're putting on some kind of sexy outfit to give me a lap dance, then I am totally okay-"

Hel smirked just the tiniest bit as she started pulling off her clothes. "I'm not, but I can staple that towel to your forehead."

"You're a scary chick, you know that?"

"Yeah."

"Good, just thought I'd remind you." A pause, then, "Jesus, Hel, do you wash anything? This towel smells like mildew." Another pause. "You gave it to me for that exact reason, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"I hate you."

"You love me."

"True. They say addicts love what hurts them. I'm probably a masochist in that respect."

"Probably."

"You done yet? I think there's mildew growing in my lungs by now."

Hela tightened the strap around her neck. "Yeah, I'm done now."

Bobby pulled the towel off his head, sucking in a dramatic breath. "Sweet, wonderful oxyge-" He stopped, staring at her. "What."

She gave him a bright smile, wider than her usual ones, with her hands on her hips.

Her best friend slapped a hand over his eyes. "Christ, I was kidding about the lap dance, Hel. What are you smoking?"

Hela rolled her eyes and pulled the hand off his eyes. "It's just a bikini that my foster mom bought me last year, Bobby. Get over it. Besides, you're missing the point." Again, she smiled and gestured to her legs.

It took it a moment to register, but she saw it when his dark green eyes widened. "Holy crap. Holy crap. What the hell. What the fuck happened to-"

Hel sat beside him, running her hands over the smooth pale skin of her legs. "Call it a…"

"Miracle?"

She looked up, a small smile playing on her lips. "Call it a blessing. From a god."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep. So. You're introduced to Hel. 
> 
> And any questions you have will be answered in the near future. Can't wait? Ask me I guess and I'll see if I can clear things up without giving anything away…
> 
> NEXT CHAPTER: Fast forward to a year later when Loki tries to take over the Earth, Hel recognizes him on TV, and things happen. Like SHIELD. And the Avengers. And other things. :)


	3. So she ran away in her sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this chapter we go into the events of the movie. Yay! Forgive me if I get something wrong, for I am going by memory alone. But I won't have to for long! Movie comes out on DVD on September 25, kiddies. :) So excited. 
> 
> Also, school has begun. *cue funeral march* Yes. You know what that means. Slower updates. :( 
> 
> Plus, I'm assuming the events in Avengers happened in late May. So this is based around that time frame. Hel is fifteen years old here.
> 
> ALSO! Summary change because the plot changed. :)

Chapter 2: "When she was just a girl, she expected the world, but it flew away from her reach, so she ran away in her sleep" ~ _Paradise_ by Coldplay

After Hel first meets Loki, after she gets the bracelet, after _everything_ changes, things happen.

It started a few weeks after the Loki incident when she went swimming in her foster parents' swimming pool with Bobby and she found the deep, painful looking bruises he'd been hiding under his t-shirt.

"Dumbass," she snapped in clipped tones as she forced him to lie on the laid-back pool chair.

He looked mildly uncomfortable, not from her fingering the bruises on his ribs (no, they'd gotten past that awkward opposite-sex-contact stage ages ago) but from just the fact that he was embarrassed. Bobby would be the last to admit his dad had ever hit him in a drunken rage. And all because it _embarrassed_ him. No one wanted to admit they had issues, but if it's hurting you, why the hell should you put up with it?

That's how Hela looked at it, at least.

She knew she was weird; she embraced it. If it kept her out of the moronic drama that was high school, she was fine with it. Maybe she got lonely sometimes when she watched the other girls her age gushing over guys or throwing some big sleepover, but she had Bobby, and that was all she needed.

Besides, she watched what happened when other teens socialized. She'd eavesdropped on just enough conversations to know that when you turned your back to somebody, you were open to harsh, teenage judgment. She'd heard it about herself.

But back to Bobby's issues, because God knows he had just as many as she did but hid them _so_ much better.

Her blonde-headed friend tried to sit up with a wince. "Hel, look, it's not that bad, honestly-"

Hel's hand snapped up to his throat and she pushed him back down with a glare to show that, yes, she could force him and would.

Bobby sighed and covered his eyes against the sun with a hand. "Screw you, control freak."

She smiled the tiniest smile before going back to examining the bruise. It was a deep purple color, almost the color of her legs, which looked normal at the moment since she was wearing the bracelet along with a deep purple bikini. Hel frowned and silently wished she could do more than just make sure his ribs weren't cracked. She hated seeing Bobby hurt more than anything when he of all people didn't deserve it.

In the back of her head a small voice whispered about God working in mysterious ways, punishing the good people and celebrating the bad.

"So what happened this time?"

Bobby peeked one blue eye out from between his fingers. "Would you believed me if I said I fell down the stairs at school, doc?"

She glared, feeling the dark emotions that lurked in her stir. "Don't fucking _lie to my face_ , you asshole. I _know_ what happened."

His hand dropped and he rolled his eyes. "Of course you do. Because you know _everything_."

Hela felt a flash of cold pass over her. Because, yeah, it hurt. She was just trying to help him. He didn't need to get so defensive.

But then, didn't she, those few times he mentioned her legs?

 _Hypocrite_ , she chided herself.

Out loud, "I'm just trying to help."

"Maybe I don't want your help."

Again the cold, but instead of getting up and snapping out a retort like she wanted, she didn't. Because she had said those same words before, and Bobby had never left her.

So instead she just stared at him, waiting.

After a few moments, he sighed heavily again. "An empty wine bottle."

And as much as Hel tried to stop the image of Bobby having a wine bottle smashed against his ribs, shattering into a million pieces and piercing his skin and drawing blood, so much blood-

She couldn't.

The dark thing inside her flared bright in anger, burning like a thousand suns. And for a few sweet moments, Hel gave into it, letting the rush sweep her away. She saw the hundreds of ways Bobby's father could die, each painful and slow, and then she'd send him to the lowest level of Helheim, where murderers and rapists and awful people like Bobby's father go, where he'd suffer the eternal tortures.

Hela reveled in the sweetness of her anger and imagined revenge as something under her skin burned with true power.

Somewhere off to her right, she heard the sound of multiple things shattering and Bobby's surprised cursing.

Then Hel felt a cool hand on her arm, and suddenly she felt empty, cold nothingness.

She blinked. The fire, the hate, the anger- It was all gone. And she just felt cold now.

"Are you alright?"

Bobby's voice brought her back down to earth. "What? Um, yeah, yeah, I am."

He watched her with concerned and suspicious blue eyes, sitting up now. "You know, you're eyes were glowing."

Hel couldn't help the snort that slipped out. " _Glowing_?"

Her best friend frowned at her, genuinely concerned. "Yeah, smartass, glowing."

"You're imagining things."

"Am I? Look." Bobby pointed to something behind her and she turned.

The lemonade glasses and pitcher that had been on the table were shattered, the spilled lemonade dripping off the edge of the patio table and onto the concrete.

Hel frowned, remembering the burning she'd felt under her skin. "What happened to it?"

"You tell me." He was staring at her with that look that said, 'There's something different about you and you know it'.

Hela didn't like that look. It made her feel wrong. Misplaced. Inhuman.

Then she was pushing up and away from the pool chair and Bobby, towards the house, towards her room, where she could think things out in silence without the scrutinizing looks of everyone else. Even Bobby.

 

\------

Things like shattering glasses happen after that. A lot.

And of course that starts up the rumor mill at school that she's a witch (been there, done that) or that she's possessed (how many times has she heard that?) or that she's a mutant getting ready to go crazy axe murderer on the school (really, mutant turned axe murderer? How the heck would she even get an axe into school? This wasn't American Horror Story).

What was new was the little trinkets that started showing up in her locker and on it. Pentagrams draw on her locker. Bible verses stuffed in it. Homemade charms meant to ward off evil hanging from it. People making a cross with their fingers towards her whenever she walked by.

It just ticked her off even more.

But every now and then she'd let her anger loose in class just so she could see the reactions of her classmates and laugh at their faces. Bobby rained on her parade with a look that said, ' _Stop, that's enough_ ', but she still enjoyed it.

She thinks she may be mutant, but until she knows for sure she'll keep her freak opinion of herself.

And that's how things go for pretty much a year.

 

\------

Until, once again, everything changes in May.

She's having a little R&R after school in her room with her Lord of the Rings books when her phone rings suddenly.

"Hello?"

"What are you doing?" Bobby asks in breathless voice.

"Reading Lord of the Rings, so screw off. I just got to the good part." He knew she liked her books.

"Turn on the TV to CNN."

"Bobby-"

" _Do it_."

Hela hesitated, but set her book down and flicked on the TV. The fuzzy image cleared a bit after a moment to show the familiar CNN news announcer. Turning up the volume a bit, she listened to the words.

_"…Stuttgart, Germany, where a public attack occurred late last night. The attacker, who referred to himself as the Loki found in Norse mythology, assaulted the gala's host. He was taken into custody not by local officials but rather Iron Man and what looked to be Captain America, both working under a international organization called SHIELD…"_

The newscaster's words faded into the background as the TV turned to a shaky cell phone footage. Hel's fingers twisted in her sheets as she recognized the green and leather clad figure.

Bobby's voice spoke in her ear again, making her jump. "Jesus, Hel, please tell me that this is just a coincidence. That- That's not the guy you talked about, is it? Please, please, tell me it isn't- _And don't you dare hang up_ , or so help me, I will- I'll- I'll do something drastic." A pause. "It's… It's not him, is it?"

Hela squeezed her eyes shut against the images from the TV, of the man she'd connected with so well forcing dozens of people to kneel. She let out a shaky breath. "Yes, Bobby, it is him."

Her best friend just breathed in the phone, shaky breath by shaky breath. Then, " _Crap_."

Suddenly Hel's thoughts sped up again and her mouth unglued itself. "But- But that can't be him. He was, you know, nice, and _sane_ , not some stark-raving lunatic forcing people to kneel." Involuntarily, her eyes flicked to the screen again. "And he looked…healthier. Not sick."

"So what the hell is he doing by attacking some gala in Germany and killing people? Hel, a sane and nice person wouldn't _do that_. And on top of it all, what the hell was he doing in your dreams?"

The back of her head hit the wall beside her bed. She was not having this conversation right now. Not ever. Because it was impossible.

Like a switch being flipped, everything spinning in Hel's head just stopped and all was quiet.

Completely disregarding her conversation with Bobby, she flopped on her bed sideways to stare at the wall and tap her phone against her lips. Facts and myths were running through her head and connections were being made steadily.

Hela wasn't stupid. She may not have had the best grades ever, but that was more because she didn't care than because she was stupid. No, she wasn't stupid.

But the more she looked at this little idea, this little, terrible, wonderful idea, and the more connections she made that supported it, the more this idea seemed less impossible. If anything, it was beginning to clear a lot of things up and yet cloud things further.

Insane, but possible.

Right?

Bringing the phone back up to her ear, she murmured, "Bobby, I'll call you back later. I have some research to do."

With a click she ended the call, cutting off any protest that her best friend made, and reached for her laptop.

 

\------

Dozens, maybe even hundreds, of mythology sites, one very long Word Document, and several hours later, Hela finally let her eyes shut and sleep swallow.

As always, she appeared in Elivdnir with hundreds of souls waiting for judgment. After a moment of gathering herself, Hel dove into her duty of sorting the souls. The familiar pattern took her mind off things and she took comfort in the fact that despite how everything in her waking life was changing, this was the same routine.

Ganglot and Ganglati continued to watch as comforting presences, but from the corner of her eye the teenager could see both of them fidgeting.

Halfway through the night, a cool touch to her shoulder caught her attention. Startled (they _never_ disturbed her), Hela turned to see Ganglot watching her with wide anxious grey eyes. "My lady," she said in a grave whisper, "Midgard is in danger."

Ganglati hissed angrily, eyes flashing. "Ganglot!"

The maidservant hissed back in a different language just as vehemently. An argument broke out between her servants and Hel couldn't do more than stare on in wonder. This was the most emotion she'd ever seen out of either of them, and whatever they were arguing about seemed pretty serious-

Ganglot's words registered.

And out loud she said, " _Shit_."

"Indeed," said a very even, blank voice that most definitely wasn't hers or her servants.

Hel and her servants were the only ones to react, as the souls filling the room usually just stared off listlessly until it was their time. From the crowd of wispy, translucent souls stepped a very solid form. It was a man with thinning brown hair, wearing a blank expression and a suit like from Men in Black. She only blinked once at the bloody stab wound in his chest and the blood staining his suit. Souls sometimes came in bearing the marks of a violent death. She'd gotten used to it.

The soul stepped out of the crowd of other souls, only stopping a few feet from the stairs to her throne. Ganglati shifted at his post. "She's right. Earth is in danger. I want to help stop it."

Hela just _stared_ at him. Souls _never_ talked.

But she could just tell just by looking at him that he wasn't an ordinary soul. There was this haze clouding her mind when she looked at him. Something she'd never experienced. She usually could tell instantly where each soul went, but…this was different. Nothing came to her when she looked at him except a wall blocking her. He didn't belong.

She squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to let her emotions get the best of her. This was all so _frustrating_ and _confusing_ and it was driving her insane. Loosing control now would be anything but helpful.

Before she could get swept away by the emotional current, Hel stood up and made her way down the steps to stand in front of the soul. He matched her curious gaze with a blank, serious expression.

Sighing, Hela said tiredly, "I can't tell where you're going."

He raised an eyebrow at that. "Well, I can tell you one thing: I'm not staying here."

It was Hel's turn to raise an eyebrow. An unrest soul with regrets?

She sighed again and asked, "Who are you?"

The man stuck a hand out. "Agent Coulson, part of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division."

The teen hesitated before shaking his quite solid hand. "Wordy."

"SHIELD for short."

"Ah." She paused a moment before saying, "I'm Hel."

Agent Coulson raised an eyebrow again. "Hell?"

"H-E-L, like the Hel in Norse mythology. You know, Goddess of Death and all that fun stuff."

He nodded. "So you exist also. That would explain why I'm here, then."

Hel didn't even bother explaining that this was probably all a dream and that he only existed in her imagination. So instead she gestured to his stab wound. "Sorry about that."

Coulson barely glanced at it. "It was unfortunate."

She stared at him. "You just called death unfortunate."

"Yes." He stared back evenly. "The amount of paperwork that I'll have to fill out for this type of thing will be monumental."

Hela nodded, feeling unbelievably weirded out. He was dead and worrying about paperwork? And then it hit her.

"You make it sound like you're going to live again."

He nodded impassively, looking over her shoulder at the unrest less Ganglot and Ganglati. "I have to. If I don't who's going to do the paperwork? Fury won't and Hill doesn't have the time."

 _Names with no faces_ , she thought. "You're so sure of yourself, but it's impossible to live again."

The agent's calm, sure eyes zeroed in on her again and for all the power she felt in her dreams, his gaze made her feel small. "You're the Goddess of Death, aren't you? You tell me."

"It's never been done before."

"I've done a lot of things that have never been done before."

Hel frowned. "I can't tell where you're going."

Coulson clasped his hands in front of him like it was a done deal and he was merely waiting for the word to go. "Then send me back."

She thought about it. This was a dream, so what was the harm? "Will I see you again?" What a ridiculous question…

He stood a little straighter, tugging on his jacket to smooth it out. "I hope so. Compared to most Norse Gods I've met, you seem fairly normal."

"What."

"Good day, Miss Hel." And with that Agent Coulson turned and walked through the parting souls, right out the entrance to Helheim.

The teen just stood there, staring. After a few moments, she threw her hands up. "That's it, this day has officially been named 'Normal Says 'Screw It' And Goes To Hell'." She turned and pointed at Ganglot. "Write that down."

With a small, rare smile, Hel's maidservant pulled a small tablet out of the pocket in her dress.

 

\------

Hel's woken up the tunes of Coldplay playing from her phone. With a groan she rubs her eyes and looks at the time. 2:19 PM. Jesus, how long had she slept? Nearly twelve hours. She was sleeping away her Saturday.

"Hello?" She answers as she shoves her laptop to the side and buries her head in her pillow.

"Damnit, Hel, answer your Goddamn phone," Bobby snaps immediately. "I've been calling you the past four hours."

Irritation flares up in her. "I was asleep, jerk. You woke me up."

"You're sleeping during an alien invasion?"

Hela rolls her eyes for a moment before saying, "Bobby, there are no aliens-"

"Turn your TV on."

She did.

And instantly regretted it.

 

\------

She was hyperventilating.

The line that existed between her dreams and reality was blurring. Loki existed. SHIELD existed. Her dreams were no longer dreams.

Hel was going insane. That had to be it.

And yet she was still capable of rational thought.

Shutting down all other thoughts, Hela focused on what she'd discovered in the past four hours. A mental recount, almost.

Loki had tried to take over Manhattan with an alien army (she'd apologize to Bobby later) by opening a portal. (Every time she looked at her gold bracelet from him it hurt to think that the same person that had given it to her was doing this).

A group called the Avengers had showed up, and she only recognized Tony Stark as Iron Man (who didn't know him?), Captain America from Bobby dumping history facts on her, and the Hulk that had destroyed Harlem a few years earlier. They had fought the aliens, destroyed the portal, then a nuclear bomb had showed up out of no where which Iron Man directed through the portal as it closed.

They apprehended Loki and turned him into a secret organization named SHIELD that just came to public light. Cleanup began and the media backlash began. People were taking different sides on the matter of the Avengers.

She wasn't sure what had happened to Loki, but she knew one thing:

Her answers lay in New York.

So with the feeling of the weight of the world on her shoulders, Hel began making plans.

 

\------

_2 months later…_

Hela hefted her duffel bag on one shoulder and her backpack on the other. "Get ready, Bobby. The bus will be here any minute."

Her best friend fiddled nervously with the straps on his own backpack. "Are you sure this will work?"

"Yes."

"One-hundred percent?"

"Yes."

"What if we don't have enough money?"

"We will."

"But how do you-"

"Bobby," she cut in flatly, still staring at the house on the opposite side of the street, "this summer I mowed 45 lawns and played 19 poker games with those college guys down the street. And you know how good I am at poker. You mowed 38 lawns, won $419 on several lottery scratch-offs, and won 6 poker games also with the college guys. I'm sure we have enough money to get to New York and rent a cheap hotel for two weeks while I look."

He was silent for a moment as he chewed on his lip, blue eyes clouded with worry. "Well, what if they find out we really didn't go camping?"

"Did you tell them that you went camping with me and my foster parents and that there wouldn't be any reception?"

"Yeah?"

"Okay. I told my foster parents I went camping with you and your parents and that there wasn't reception." She shuffled closer to him and elbowed him with a small smile. "Hey, don't worry. Nothing's gonna go wrong. And we'll just look around for a little while to try and get some answers."

Bobby sent a strained smile back at her, but it was dimmer than his usual grin. The smile faded and the worried look returned full on.

"…Hel, this could be dangerous."

If it had been anyone but Bobby, she would've rolled her eyes.

"This Loki guy, he's a bad guy. He _killed_ people, H. Still is-"

"First of all," Hela broke in curtly, "you didn't see him the way I did. And second, he hasn't killed anyone since the Manhattan attack. Ever since he somehow returned a month and a half ago, all he's done is mainly cause trouble for the Avengers. Like pranks. And he's not the only bad guy to show up. There's that Doom guy, Hydra – whatever that is – and that Amora chick who says she's from Asgard, too."

"Ass-gard?"

Hel really did role her eyes this time. "Idiot. As-gard."

" _As_ -gard?"

"Yes. Back to my point, I'm only going because I'm looking for answers. And I feel that those answer are in New York."

Bobby sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I hope you're right, Hel. I hope you're right."

Hela smirked. "Aren't I always?"

The look he sent her wasn't amused.

 

\------

"Okay, set it down gently now- _Gently_! Jesus, Thor, set it down gently! That was very expensive to make, and, well, I can't remember _how_ I made it since I was drunk when I did, but anyways- Set it down gently. Yes, like that. Thanks, big guy."

Tony patted Thor's arm as he stepped forward to calibrate his invention to the right measurements. Which, hopefully, worked.

"It was my pleasure, Man of Iron," Thor replied, in an almost _subdued_ tone.

The billionaire looked up immediately, because the god almost never talked in any other tone than a booming one. The thunderer was staring off into the distance, eyes on the horizon of Manhattan. They had a spectacular view of the city from the rooftop of Stark Tower.

But Thor didn't quite look like he was taking in the sights the way he usually did.

Momentarily forgetting his invention, Tony sat back from his crouched position to stare up at the god. "What's wrong, Point Break? You don't look as happy to be up here as you usually do."

"I am worried about many things, friend Tony."

The genius billionaire playboy philanthropist resisted the urge to tell him that for the last time, it was _Tony_ , because honestly, how hard were two syllables to pronounce by themselves? Instead he patted the spot to next to him. "Well, I'm all ears at the moment. Might as well let off some steam."

Thor did sit down, but he kept his closed off expression.

Tony sighed a little but it was lost in the mild breeze atop the tower. He turned part of his brain power to the machine and the codes that needed to be input as he brought up a holographic screen. Fingers flying across the interactive hologram, he said, "It's this deal with your brother and his kids, isn't it?"

"Yes."

Well, he wasn't putting up any resistance, was he? "What about it?"

The thunderer huffed a small, humorless laugh. "You would want to hear my misgivings of a traitor who killed so many of your kind?"

The genius shrugged, eyes watching the progress as Jarvis fully integrated with the system so he'd be able to receive alerts on any changes the machine caught immediately. "Look, Thor, you're my teammate, right? You watch out for my back during the fight just like you do for all the other Avengers, and treat me like a friend when we're not fighting the baddies. You don't look down on us and tell us to kneel. The least I could do is offer you an ear. And yeah, Loki killed a lot of humans. And threw me out a window. He's got blood on his hands. So does every person on this team. And a lot of it. Believe me, I know. So if you wanna talk about your brother, I'm probably the best person for it. And if that isn't sad I don't know what is."

Thor digested that for a few moments. Tony waited patiently as he began setting the right adjustments for his machine.

"I am worried about the reactions of not only my father and mother, but my niece and nephews as well."

That made the playboy pause. "I get your parents being pissed that you went against their judgment to banish your niece and nephews, but why are you worried about the kids reactions?"

The god had taken Mjolnir from its harness on his belt and was running his fingers along the edges of the hammer; it seemed to be a nervous habit that rarely made itself known. "Fenrir, the eldest, was too old to not remember the Aesir and Asgard. My father simply banished him to the forests of Midgard, where he has remained since. I fear he will be less than happy with the Aesir."

"And he's a wolf?"

Thor paused as he tried to figure out how to explain it correctly. "Yes, but he can take on a human form if he wishes to. I believe the way Loki explained it to me so many centuries ago was that Fenrir is naturally a wolf, so it would require effort to maintain a human appearance for long periods of time. But he will always revert to his wolf self eventually."

Tony nodded. "Kinda like a werewolf, but the concepts are reversed."

They'd had a crash course on the latest fads for the sake of Thor and Steve, and Twilight was one of the first things to be explained. So the god understood the reference and smiled a little. "Yes, very much like a werewolf."

The scientist thought back to the research he'd done on Norse mythology. "And the middle child? Jormungandr? He's a snake, right?"

"Aye," Thor nodded. "Jormungandr was also too old to not remember anything of Asgard."

"Does he have a human form?"

"No, for his domain is the waters of Midgard. Before he was banished, he was allowed to move freely, but in order for his safety and the safety of Midgardians, my father restrained him to the waters of Midgard. I believe he could leave the water briefly, but not for long."

With a beep his invention finished integrating the adjustments and Tony happily shut down the interactive hologram. If all went well and worked, then he'd be able to detect Loki's mischief judged by the special energy signature that his magic gave off when he was up to mischief. The test pilot machine that he'd just finished would only span out to about fifty miles, but it seemed that most of the trickster's tricks happened fairly close to Avenger tower.

That done, he leaned back on his hands to look at Thor. "So which body of water is he restrained to? You told Fury that part, didn't you?"

The thunderer shook his head. "Jormungandr is not restrained to a single expanse of water. He travels through all waters. That is why he would be impossible to catch in a chase."

The scientist inside of Tony knew that was impossible, and was trying to calculate a way that someone could travel between the Pacific Ocean and one of the Great Lakes. Except he couldn't. Because it was impossible.

But, hey. Magic. Apparently it could work wonders.

So Tony shut down that train of thought. "You mean I could go down to the pond in Central Park and see Jormungandr swimming around in there?"

There was that big, bright smile he was used to seeing Thor wear. "Only if he wished it."

Of course. That figured. Well, that posed a problem in making sure that he wasn't causing trouble somewhere on Earth. Tony didn't like snakes anyway.

"And what about the youngest kid? Hel?"

Thor's smile faded. "My niece does not remember anything of her Asgardian heritage."

"Well, if she's here on Earth, surely she knows something's up. You said that they were banished in the 1600's. If she's immortal and been alive since then, she must know something's wrong."

The god's fingers continued to trace patterns and edges on Mjolnir as he looked off into the horizon of Manhattan. "By human terms, she was only a year old when she was banished. Hela was too young to remember her life on Asgard, so my father took a small mercy on her. She was sent to live as a mortal on Earth, her magic muted. By day, she lived as a human, and by night she went to her hall in Helheim. Each night, she judges the sins of each soul that has died and sends them to one of the nine levels of Helheim or Valhalla."

Tony digested that for a moment. Then, "So she's dead? Not immortal?"

Thor smiled again, but it was bitter. "No, she is very much alive. Throughout the centuries we have watched over her."

"Then- How?"

"Each time she died, she was reincarnated."

The genius billionaire playboy philanthropist had a ' _WTF?_ ' moment that lasted _way_ too long as he thought how messed up that was. He held up his hands, looking Thor in the eye. "So- Let me get this straight. Out there somewhere is a goddess living as a human, and we're about to disrupt her life by telling her that she's really an alien from another planet."

The thunderer nodded, his blonde hair blowing slightly in the wind. "Yes. She is currently living in her 'teenage years', as you humans put, with a host family."

Tony threw his hands up. "She's a teenager? Even greater. This is going to go so fantastically _well_."

 

\------

Hel was seriously reconsidering her choice to go to New York with only Bobby as a companion.

Her initial plan had been to get in contact with SHIELD, but then she realized that she had no way of doing that other than becoming a super villain of her own making, which she definitely wasn't doing anytime soon. They didn't exactly have SHIELD on speed dial either.

Plus, they hadn't been able to find a hotel cheap enough that it wouldn't drain their money. They'd been stuck with lugging their bags around all Manhattan while they looked.

So, yeah. Hel was starting to realize that her plan sucked.

Which Bobby kept reminding her every five minutes.

"God, I can't believe I actually followed you to _New York_. I'm such an idiot. No, wait- I think the blame falls on you for this."

She grit her teeth as she stared out the window of the small café they'd found. It was a pretty typical café environment, with free wi-fi that she was currently waiting on to connect to her laptop. "I know, Bobby, and I'm sorry."

Whatever he was going to say next was cut off as a waitress came up to take their order. Hela simply asked for a water (they needed to watch their money if they had to spend more than they thought on a hotel) before opening the web on her laptop. She tuned out Bobby's complaining as she used the search engine to look up facts on SHIELD.

And truthfully, there wasn't much. It was basically a covert operation organization that kept its secrets under lock and key. The Avengers was started by SHIELD, but the founder wasn't known. Most of the sites she found were conspiracy theories that she instantly dismissed. And all the sites that even looked promising from the web address were all shut down, with a 'This website is no longer in use' message. Whoever SHIELD was, they cleaned up good.

With a sigh, Hel shut down her computer and took a sip of her water. Bobby's monologue resumed in her ears.

"…We're tired, in an unfamiliar city – hell, unfamiliar state – and fucking homeless. What do you think we're gonna do? Sleep in an alley? Walk around until we find a hotel? Ask some stranger to take us in? Jesus, Hel, we're in a bad situation and it's-"

Hel couldn't help it. She was tired, hungry, lost, and barely an inch away from crying. She never cried. Well, there was that one time when they watched _Gone With The Wind_ \- But as far as she was concerned, that night never happened. Still, she came looking for answers, and all she'd gotten was dead ends and disappointment. She was used to being disappointed but she felt so close this time. Close enough to taste success.

And now that hope was fading fast.

Bobby's words was the straw the broke the camel's back. Or, most likely, her back.

Hel's fist slammed down on the table top hard enough to rattle the glasses and the little container with sugar, salt and pepper. Bobby instantly went silent and several people looked up. She kept her words low and cold as ice.

"Yes, Bobby, I know its _all my fucking fault_ , I know that we're in a bad situation, I know we're in a completely different state. But if you'd shut up for two damn seconds and used your brain to help me think, maybe, just maybe, we could find a way out of this Goddamn mess. So shut your mouth or I will."

She was all wrath and cold fury during her tirade- but it all drained away when she saw the flinch cross Bobby's face. The terrible, soul-eating guilt hit her hard enough to knock the breath out of her. What the heck did she just say? And to her best friend of all people? The only one that she could fully trust not to change in this world of changing?

God, what had she done?

Her brain kicked up again and her mouth started moving. "Bobby, God, I'm sorry- I- I shouldn't have said-"

His familiar blue eyes that she'd memorized looked up, full of understanding as a small smile crossed his face. "Shut up, Hel."

And because she was still so shell shocked by what she'd said so ruthlessly (she was brutal, but not _that_ brutal usually), she did.

Hela started rolling the charms on her gift bracelet from Loki between her index finger and thumb, a habit she'd picked up soon after he'd given it to her. Starting with the wolf, feeling the familiar figure as a comfort, all the way through the four charms to the last, the ball of fire.

Bobby was silent for a few moments as he stared out the window. After several tense minutes, he finally looked back to her with tired blue eyes. "Look… I know we're both tired. And I know how much this meant to you. So I'm sorry I complained so much. I just have my doubts about this and I've been worried about how this could mess with you. You've been obsessed the past few months, Hel… And to be frank, it's scary." He reached across the table and took her cold hand in his warm one. "I'm just… I don't want you to get hurt, okay? And before you start apologizing again, I accept your previous apologies."

Hel blinked. And blinked again.

Then the guilt returned full force.

God, she didn't deserve the forgiveness, the concern in his eyes, the comforting hand in her own- She didn't deserve _any_ of it. Didn't he see that? Everyone else did, even she did, so why was he so worried about her, like she didn't deserve the angry words he should be telling her now?

The answer was all too plain, and it hurt to think about it.

Because Bobby loved her when he shouldn't.

 _Now I really will cry_ , she thought as she pressed her other hand to her face. This was why they were best friends. This was why she'd stuck with him since second grade. This was why she wasn't completely insane.

Because Bobby understood.

That was worth any amount of money in her books.

Hel sighed, small and painful, and took her hand away from her face. She looked to Bobby and saw the small smile on his face. And whispered, "I'm so sorry, Bobby. I don't deserve you."

He snorted, shaking his head still with a smile. "You don't get it, do you?"

"Get…what?"

Her best friend looked away, his smile disappearing for a brief moment. Then he looked back up and that same goofy grin that'd irritated her since second grade returned. "Nevermind." His eyes trailed behind her. "I think I may have just figured out another solution, though."

Bobby pointed behind her, and Hel turned in her seat to look.

The first thing her eyes landed on, because it was admittedly hard to miss, was the huge tower that had a giant 'A' on the front of it.

 

\------

"I'm sorry, Miss, but unless you have an appointment you can't see Mr. Stark."

The secretary didn't sound sorry at all.

Hela sighed, scowling at the security cameras that had their tiny little lenses focused on them. She used her best polite and respectful voice. "Ma'am, it's very important that I speak to him. A matter of life and death."

The secretary smiled, looking like a combination of amused and irritated. "Miss, getting a few minutes of Mr. Stark's very precious time just to get an autograph is not a 'matter of life and death'."

Okay, so Hel had lied about the life and death part, but that just pissed her off.

"Well, can I talk to one of the other Avengers, then?"

The woman just shook her head, leaning forward with her hands clasped. "Sweetheart, listen. The Avengers are very busy people, and they don't have time for personal meetings. If you wish to get a chance to meet them, I suggest you wait until the next public appearance they have. They simply don't have time for little fangirls such as yourself."

Behind Hel, Bobby whispered, "Wrong thing to say, woman."

Wrong, indeed.

The cold fury that had risen up earlier came back stronger than ever.

The secretary's glass of water cracked and shattered. Somewhere in the back ground a window shattered. Bobby gasped, gripping Hel's arm.

Her grip on the counter tightened until her knuckles were white.

It was like watching from a distance, yet in the front row seat. She saw the secretary's eyes widen, heard her scream, felt Bobby's hand gripping her arm tight enough to bruise. Hel knew that what was happening wasn't normal, natural, ordinary. It was an overreaction. Except it wasn't. It was like letting something loose, something dangerous and dark and alive-

But she felt nothing other than the cold tingling spreading through her skin.

It took her a moment to realize what it was.

_Power._

The sheer amount of it nearly took her breath away.

Then she was being jerked backwards, literally and figuratively, out of the current and the secretary's face disappeared to be replaced by hands on her face and a familiar face in her vision. Short blonde hair, pale skin, worried frown, blue eyes that she knew like the back of her hand-

_Oh, God, Bobby-_

Hela gasped, everything suddenly falling back into startling clarity. She felt the ground beneath her feet, her best friends' hands on her face, heard the shouting and screaming. The moment passed and Hel blinked as she sucked in deep shuddering breaths. God, what was _that_?

"-swer me, Hel, please, you're scaring the shit out of me, please, oh, God, please, please, you're so cold-"

Her hands found his shirt and she grabbed on for dear life as her knees suddenly felt too weak to hold her up. He guided her to the ground as the chaos around them continued.

Feeling like the air had been punched out of her, Hel gasped, "Bobby-"

"Shhh, Hel, its alright, I swear, you're fine," the pale teen whispered, sounding more as if he was trying to convince himself.

Bobby looked scared, she noted, and he never looked scared, so that was a good enough reason to worry-

Hela's hands came up to grab Bobby's, but she paused when she saw him flinch. Immediately she pulled her head away to look at his hands. Covering the once smooth skin was dark blistering skin that made her cringe.

It took her a moment to realize what it was:

Frostbite.

"Bobby, what-"

Before Hel could finish, there was a mighty crash at the front of the lobby. She turned just in time to see a flash of red and gold fly through the front doors- Or what was left of them. All the glass in the doors and windows had shattered into millions of pieces, glittering on the floor like diamonds.

She didn't have very much time to marvel at this as the very thing that had flown through the door was currently pointing a repulsor in her face. That repulsor was attached to the shiny, polished armor of the Iron Man suit, which was glaring stonily down at them.

Before Hel could even let her jaw drop, an mechanic sounding voice spoke. "Alright, Loki, the jig's-"

Iron Man paused for a moment and tilted his head to the side just a bit. After a few tense moments of silence (by now the lobby had cleared and the only noise was an annoying alarm going off in the background), he said, "You aren't Loki."

Hel found her breath again. In a small voice, she said, "No, I'm not-"

"But," he continued as the repulsor whined as it charged, "you sure as hell look like him, and that's good enough reason for me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> …I know. I'm evil. ;) 
> 
> But this chapter is 13 pages long and I finished it last night truthfully and I have to get to my homework and I think that this is a good enough place to stop as any, so…
> 
> On a sidenote: my take on the whole Captain America being reintroduced to the modern world was that SHIELD kept it under lock and key. America thought Steve died back in the forties. And I seriously doubt that Fury would let something like that Captain America is alive leak to the news... So I'm thinking that the world was really confused when they saw CA in Stuttgart. :)
> 
> Toodle-loo. :) 
> 
> Remember, feedback feeds me. :) Hope this cleared up some questions. 
> 
> (Lotsa smileys, huh?)


	4. Never been so deep inside a shadow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… The Avengers finally meet Hel, and Loki makes an appearance. :) There is mischief, and there is chaos. But any story with Loki in it has to have a healthy dose of that. ;D 
> 
> Note #1: This is where everything FINALLY starts speeding up. 
> 
> Note #2: I’m assuming that those cuffs Loki was wearing at the end of the movie had some special tech in them, whether it be some Asgardian magic or electrocution developed by our favorite inventor, but anyways. I took a liberty with those.
> 
> Note #3: After the movie, I would bet that Tony would have had a miniature SHIELD base (or at least some interrogation rooms and holding cells) installed into the lower, underground, non-public levels of his tower once it became Avenger Tower. After all, if there’s an emergency in the city, SHIELD agents right there will get there faster than from somewhere outside of the city, right? So they do have a larger base outside of the city, plus the Helicarrier, but then the small essentials in the underground levels of the tower. That’s where a large part of this is set. 
> 
> Note #4: Certain ideas are introduced in this chapter. Some of them will not be used. So before you quit this story because it may be turning down a Mary-Sue lane or too cliché… Just wait. :)

Chapter 3: “I've never been so deep inside a shadow, I've never been so insecure of what I know” ~ _Gotta Figure This Out_ , Erin McCarley 

Well, things really did flip out after that. 

Quite literally seconds after Iron Man had spoke, a big blur of red, gray, and blonde literally _flew_ through the empty windows and full on tackled him. Hel’s hair whipped in her face and she heard Bobby curse wildly. 

She blinked. What the heck was _that_?

Iron Man and the mysterious blur had crashed in the furthest wall, completely going through it into the next room. After a few moments of stunned silence, she heard the mechanized voice of Iron Man shout, “Damnit, Thor! I wasn’t going to _shoot_ her! Now I’m going to have to replace this chest piece!”

After that, a team of people dressed like SWAT but with the SHIELD symbol filed in, guns raised and finger on the trigger. Before they could even move, the team had surrounded them. …With the guns pointed at them.

The first thing that popped into Hela’s mind: _What an overreaction._

Then there were cuffs being slapped on her wrists and Bobby’s, and they were pulling them apart to drag them to opposite sides of the room. She barely managed to shout, “Don’t tell them anything!” to her best friend as he was swallowed by the SHIELD agents.

Five hours later, Hel sat in a rather plain, stereotypical interrogation room rubbing at the tips of her fingers where the black fingerprint ink was stained. They had taken her fingerprints, done a few mug shots, and tried valiantly to try and get a sample of her DNA by offering her water bottles, coffee, and even gum. She hadn’t fallen for it. She could only hope Bobby hadn’t either. 

In the interrogation room, there wasn’t much. A metal table, metal chair (that was wielded to the floor and she was handcuffed to), and gray walls. The wall opposite of her had a big one-way mirror and in the corner of the room a security camera blinked. 

It was all rather dull, she decided, even for her. 

Either way, Hel was worried about Bobby. The frostbite burns looked painful. And while she had no idea what the hell had caused it, she was hoping that SHIELD was nice enough to offer him medical assistance. 

If they hadn’t… Well, there would be hell to pay.

\------

“She does look like him, doesn’t she?”

“Quite a bit.”

“Think it could be our gal?”

“Maybe. But if so, why was she in New York? More specifically, Avengers Tower for that matter?”

“…It’s too much of a coincidence.”

“Exactly.”

“Is Natasha going to interrogate her or are you?”

“Neither.”

“Neither? Then who is?” A pause. “Surely not Thor?”

“That would be a biased interrogation. No, Stark’s gonna do it."

Steve’s jaw dropped. “ _Tony_?”

“Yeah. Thor is too emotionally invested, you and Bruce aren’t trained in interrogation, Tasha scares- well, everyone, and the Director says I’m too-” Clint paused, mouth curling in distaste, “ _emotionally involved_ , if this is Loki’s kid. But he thinks Stark’ll be able to connect better since she’s just a kid.” He shrugged, staring impassively through the one-way glass into the interrogation room. “Who knows? Maybe she’ll be a fan and spill everything.”

The captain bit his lip. “Is he even trained in interrogation?”

Clint’s mask dropped and he grinned. “Nope, not a bit.”

“Great.”

The archer clapped him on the back. “No worries, Cap. He’ll be hearing questions through an earpiece directed by Fury. Besides, she’s just a teenager. It’s not like she’ll resist that hard.”

“What about her friend?” 

“We’re pretty sure he’s human, but from what we can tell, he isn’t under a spell or anything. Tony said that his doohickey thing that picks up magic was going nuts about her, not her friend, which is how he knew she was in the lobby to begin with.”

Steve frowned. “She was doing magic?” 

“Cap, did you see the glass? It was all in pieces on the floor. Yeah, she was doing magic, but we don’t know exactly what she was doing _with_ it-”

“Hey, what’s she doing?”

Clint turned his attention back to the window just in time to see the girl pull out what must’ve been a bobby pin from her sloppy bun. Her dark eyebrows furrowed as she bent over her handcuff and set to work on breaking free. 

They watched in silence for a few moments before the teen rolled her eyes and threw a bent bobby pin on the table. She pulled out another and set to work again. 

Steve made a move towards the door, as if to stop her, but Clint put a hand on his shoulder. “Even if she gets out of those cuffs, there’s not much she can do unless she decides to use some of that magic mojo to break out. That door is reinforced.”

The captain still looked uneasy, but with a small nod he sat down in one of the two chairs in the observation room. After a few more moments of watching her, the soldier said, “Does this seem a little off to you?”

The archer snorted. “Yes, every last fucking bit. I don’t like it.”

“I mean, when we captured Loki back in Germany, it was so easy and turned out to be part of his plan. _This_ was too easy. What if it’s the same thing?”

Clint crossed his arms, sighing a little. “I don’t know, Cap. It all depends on whether or not she even knows exactly _who_ Loki is. If what Thor said is true, then she doesn’t even know she’s an Asgardian.”

“But she was using magic.”

“I know, that’s why _I don’t like it_.”

Through the glass, a look of surprise crossed the dark haired teen’s face from where she was bent over the handcuffs. They watched as she pulled her hand out of the handcuff, still staring at it in surprise. 

Clint huffed a laugh. “Well, damn.”

At that moment the door to the observation room opened and in walked Tony, sipping from a Starbuck’s coffee cup. He shot a grin to both the men and plopped down in the other chair, putting his feet on the table. “Hello, gents. Miss me?”

Steve looked at the feet that were now propped on the table before looking back to the billionaire. “Aren’t you supposed to be in-“ he pointed at the one-way glass, “there?”

Tony shook his head as he set his coffee on the table. “Not anymore. Phil kinda took that plan and threw it in the trash.”

The archer standing behind him tensed up. “ _What_?”

The genius shrugged and replied, “He wanted to do the interrogation himself. He was very convincing.”

“What the hell is he thinking?! He’s still recovering!”

Tony held his hands up. “That’s what I said, but he threatened me with a taser.”

Steve echoed, “A taser?”

“Don’t give me that look; he’s threatened me with one before.”

“ _What_ look-“

Clint cut in. “Look,” he said sharply, “we can’t just let a wounded man interrogate a potential threat alone. Maybe we can get Tasha in there after all-“

“Sorry, no can do, Legolas,” Tony said, “she’s helping Bruce do damage control with Thor. The big guy keeps insisting that we release his niece. And let me tell you, he is pissed that SHIELD is holding her like a criminal.”

Steve looked back to the glass. “So she really is Loki’s daughter.”

“Thor seems to think so.”

“Regardless,” the archer snapped. “I am not going to stand by and watch Coulson interrogate the daughter of the person who stabbed him and nearly killed him.”

“ _Did_ kill him,” Tony corrected. “Phil was dead for a total of two hours and 18 minutes. And it’s too late.”

Because just at that moment, Phil Coulson walked into the interrogation room looking as calm as ever.

\------

Hel was actually surprised that she’d managed to get the handcuffs undone.

The only reason she’d tried to get them off was because she was bored and had never tried it before, so she had figured ‘Why not?’. And it had actually worked.   
She could mark that off her bucket list.

Hela waited for something to happen, someone to come inside and handcuff her again, this time on both hands. She waited. The security camera blinked dully. A small sigh escaped her. 

With nothing to do, she stared at herself in the one-way mirror. No doubt there was someone on the other side, staring in at her, wondering just exactly what to charge her with. Probably vandalism.

It was at that moment she realized how utterly _screwed_ she was when her foster home agent found out. 

Then she thought of Bobby’s parents and winced.

She huffed a sigh and slouched in the seat so that the back of her head was resting on the back of the chair and her feet were propped in the chair on the other side of the table. Not the most comfortable spot, but it would work. Her fingers began rubbing each charm on her bracelet, one by one.

They could’ve at least let her keep her iPod. They’d taken everything. Their phones, iPods, her laptop, their luggage, even Bobby’s camera that he used for his hobby of photography. Hel knew how much that camera meant to him, she’d bought it for him one Christmas, and she was damn well sure going to get it back if it was the last thing she did.

There was the sound of the locks on the door opening and she sat up straight in her seat. 

There is one thing to understand about Hel: she’s not surprised very often.

Sitting on the sidelines watching can not only be entertaining but also teaching. She’s not a very dramatic, emotional person, usually quiet about her own opinions and feelings. She doesn’t scream when something scares her (fire, fire scares her), she doesn’t bust out laughing at something funny, no matter how funny it is, and she doesn’t bother keeping her opinion of other people to herself if she sees what they’re doing is wrong. 

And usually, when she’s surprised, the most reaction she gives is her eyes widening just a bit.

But this time, her jaw actually did drop.

Because the only soul to ever walk out of Helheim just walked into the interrogation. 

And, yeah, she was pretty floored by it.

Agent Phil Coulson’s lips twitched just the tiniest bit in what might’ve been a smile and he nodded to her. “Hello.”

“Uh…”

He ignored her intelligent greeting and chose to sit down in the chair her feet had currently been occupying. In his hands he held a plain tan envelope that had a SHIELD symbol stamped on the front and a ton of papers stuffed in it. 

Hel continued to stare at the dead-man-walking as he settled into the seat and flipped through the giant file like he had all the time in the world. Finally he looked up again, blue eyes sparkling with what she swore was amusement. “How are you?”

She almost forgot to answer. “Um. Fine.” Her eyes flicked to where the ragged hole had been in his Men In Black suit, which looked exactly like the one he was wearing now save for the fact that it didn’t have a bloody gaping hole in it. “How’s the, um… Wound?”

That time Agent Coulson did smile. “Very well. I’m almost recovered.”

Hela nodded, suddenly feeling very out of her element. Confusion did that to her. “Good. Glad it’s all…better and you’re not- You know. Dead.”

Just a few seconds after she spoke a cell phone started ringing. The agent sighed a little but reached in his pocket to answer it. “Yes?”

Hel jumped at the sudden shouting on the other end. 

Coulson blinked, completely unfazed. The shouting went on for a few moments before he cut the person off. “All will be explained in due time, Barton. Now, if you don’t mind, I have an interrogation to continue.” And with that he ended the call.

Putting it on the table, the agent clasped his hands in front of him on the table. “What do you want me to call you?”

The teen caught a glimpse of herself in the one-way mirror. She looked owlish. “Same as last time, I guess. Hel.”

He nodded as if he had suspected that. “Okay, Miss Hel. Do you have a last name?”

Hela watched him carefully, looking for any signs of an ulterior motive. She felt she could trust Coulson, if anything, because she’d already met him in the Underworld. There wasn’t anything hostile about the man, just the same calm, balanced soul she’d returned to the living. 

Then it struck her.

She’d seen his _soul_. Surely that counted as something, right?

So despite all the warnings she felt about handing out information to a spy organization that she already didn’t like, she said, “No. I’m an orphan. I live with a foster couple.”

“I see,” he replied, blue eyes understanding. “May I ask what you were doing in the lobby of Stark Tower?”

The teen hesitated, before answering truthfully. “Looking for answers.”

Agent Coulson raised an eyebrow and asked, “Answers to what?”

Suddenly Hel felt hot, uncomfortable embarrassment flash over her. Her gaze slid to her bracelet and she started twisting the little charms just a little harder, a little faster. Fragile trust or not, if she told them just exactly why, they’d think she was insane. _She_ thought it was insane. But she had come here to talk to SHIELD to begin with anyways. She just hadn’t expected them to lock them up. 

Hela blinked. Now that she thought about it, just exactly why did they treat her like she was a threat?

Flashes of glittering glass on the floor passed through her mind, and she thought, _Well, it might have something to do with the exploding windows._

Still… She had come looking for answers. She was going to find them. Even if she was locked up in an asylum.

Hel refocused on Coulson and asked with as much feeling as she could generate, “Can I trust you? Like, can you help me?”

The man tilted his head to the side a bit, but nodded. “As long as you’re not threatening the security of the world, yes, I suppose you can. And as for helping you, I’ll do whatever I can within my power.” 

The teen hesitated for a heartbeat, then, “I’m looking for Loki.”

The agent didn’t look surprised, or particularly like he thought she was insane. “We had figured as much.”

She frowned. “What?”

Agent Coulson opened the file he had brought in and began leafing through the thick stack. He came to a section and pulled out a good portion of the papers and placed them in front of her. “We ran tests and a web analysis on your laptop to see what you’ve been doing lately on the web. There were several searches regarding Loki, Norse mythology, and SHIELD made in the past two months. In fact, the first one was on the very day that the attack on Manhattan was made.” He pulled another section of papers out, this one only seven or eight sheets thick. “We also found this Word Document containing lengthy research into what you were searching on the Internet.”

When he set them in front of her, Hela hesitantly reached out to examine the papers. They were indeed a record of her web searches and websites she’d visited along with the Word Document. 

For a moment she wondered if they would try to jail her for downloading songs illegally. To come all this way and be taken down by a few hundred free songs would be something she would laugh at while in a jail cell.

Hel sighed, mostly because she didn’t know what else to do. She just felt…tired. “Well, Agent Coulson, what happens now?”

He had clasped his hands in front of him again. “You tell me, Hel. Exactly why are you looking for Loki?”

“Because he has the answers to my questions.”

“And what questions would those be?”

Hel looked the agent in the eye and willed him to understand. “…A little over a year ago, I met him in a dream.”

“A dream?”

“Yes. The same place I met you.”

Coulson nodded, his face as blank as ever. “What happened?”

Up until this point, she had kept her hands under the table in her lap. But with lingering doubt Hel pull her right hand from under the table and placed it where the agent could see. Fingering the small fire charm, she showed it him. “We talked and he gave me this before he left.”

He stared at the glinting gold curiously for a few moments before his eyes flicked back to meet her own. “May I see it?”

Hela instantly tensed up at the thought of taking off the bracelet. She cursed herself for wearing shorts instead of jeans. If she took it off, everyone would be able to see the discoloring on her legs. And it was sure to make someone suspicious if they noticed that she came in with pale legs and walked out with bruised skin. 

A knot of unease in her stomach, she scooted forward in the seat so her legs were hidden under the table. If Coulson gave it back before she had to get up, then no one would have to see. 

So with shaking fingers she unclasped it and set it on the table. 

Immediately she felt the loss of whatever covered the ugly color of her legs and tried to hold in a small, panicked breath. The agent picked up the bracelet like it was delicate while Hel gripped her hands tensely under the table. 

After a few silent moments of examining each little charm on it, Agent Coulson asked, “Would you mind if I took this in to have it scanned?”

She tensed up and replied in barely a whisper, “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.”

“I promise to return it to you in the condition it is now.”

Hel took a deep breath and tried to steady herself. “It’s not that, but…” _Damn_. “I just don’t want to part with it. It…means a lot. To me.” God, how cheesy was that?

Coulson watched her contemplatively for a few seconds before he said flatly, “I’ll see what I can do.”

And with that he pulled his phone out again.

“Stark, I need you in here with a scanner.” Without another word he flipped it shut. 

\------

“I will not allow my niece to be held as a criminal, Director.”

“Thor, we don’t have any other option.”

The thunderer’s blue eyes flashed and there was a slight rumble outside. “The Man of Iron informed me that part of the mortal law is that you cannot hold a person without just causes. She has not wronged you or this planet. You _must_ release her.”

Director Fury’s hand slammed down on the table, almost echoing in the private conference room. “Well, how exactly are we supposed to make sure she damn well doesn’t turn out to be her father’s daughter and start killing people, then? We can’t let her back into public, that’s for sure. The only place we can watch her closely is here, surrounded by SHIELD agents.”

Thor’s fists clenched at the words of Loki and he took a step forward, but Bruce put a placating hand on his shoulder. “Hold on just a second, Thor. He has a point. We can’t just let her roam the streets.”

Natasha, who had been standing off to the side silently with her arms crossed, finally spoke up. “Can’t we put tails on her?”

Fury shook his head, looking grim. “It wouldn’t be enough.”

“Clint and I-“

“Even if you and Agent Barton were tailing her, it wouldn’t be completely foolproof. This is _Loki’s daughter_. She needs to be watched 24/7.”

Suddenly Thor stood a little straighter and looked a little more determined. “Hela can stay at Avengers Tower, with us to watch over her.”

Both Natasha and Fury exclaimed, “ _What_?” while Bruce just muttered an, “Oh, Jesus”, and ran a hand through his hair nervously.

The god grinned with a confidence that seemed almost a little too sure. “Under the watch of my fellow Avengers and I, we could properly assure that Hela is safe and not following the path of my brother. It would be the opportune chance to reintroduce her to her true heritage again while we search for her brothers.”

Bruce bit his lip. “Thor… That probably isn’t a good idea.”

“It’s a very bad idea,” Fury insisted.

“Agreed,” Natasha said flatly.

“The Avengers can barely watch themselves,” the director said, “and you want them to watch a teenager that may or may not be working with her father for world domination. I think we’d have a better chance on keeping her here under the watch of _properly_ trained SHIELD agents.”

Natasha sniffed, looking elegantly offended.

Thor’s grin turned to a dark glower. “I will not have my niece held by those who would wish ill fortune upon her once they learned of her parentage.”

“Then what exactly could we do with her, Thor?”

“As I said, Hela can stay at Avengers Tower whilst we locate her brothers-“

“And I’ll say it again: bad fuckin’ idea.”

Bruce cleared his throat, breaking up what was beginning to look like a physical fight between the thunderer and the director of SHIELD. “Ultimately, I’d say that decision comes down to Tony, right? I mean, it is _his_ tower. He should be able to say if he wants her to stay there or not.”

Fury practically growled out a ‘damnit’ and Thor grinned again. “Surely the Anthony of Stark will see the reasoning behind my proposition.”

The scientist scratched the back of his head uncertainly. “Um… I’m sure he will, Thor.”

Natasha snorted just the tiniest bit and sent him a look that said, ‘You shouldn’t have said that’.

\------

Hel watched with some wariness and what might have been a tad defensiveness as billionaire Tony Stark had a conversation with his phone and Coulson as he scanned her bracelet. Okay, so maybe it actually wasn’t his phone, but rather the AI – Jarvis? – and from what she’d seen, Siri didn’t have anything on Jarvis. 

“-ridiculous, if you wanted me to get an _accurate_ scan, you should let me take this to my lab. The chance of having a correct scan using my phone to get readings is- Oh, eighty-eight percent at best. In my lab-,” and on and on and _on _. How much could one man _talk_?__

__It was eerily like Bobby, Hela mused as she watched the inventor tapping on his phone with one hand and holding her bracelet in the other._ _

__Then: _Oh, crap, Bobby-__ _

__“Did anyone help my friend with, um, his hands?”_ _

__Coulson nodded. “His hands were attended to as soon as you were brought in. He’ll be fine.”_ _

__Hel swallowed as some of the tension eased out of her shoulders. “Good.”_ _

__Stark suddenly stopped tapping on his phone, eyes zeroing on her. “You know, funny thing. Your buddy had frostbite all over his hands. Any idea how that got there?”_ _

__The teen felt like she shrunk under his almost accusing gaze. In a whisper she said, “No.”_ _

__He held her gaze, eyes practically screaming, ‘But don’t you?’._ _

__Then just as suddenly the billionaire was back on his phone, the moment completely gone. “Alrighty then. Hold still for a sec.”_ _

__Next a phone was being shoved in her face, a bright blue light scanning over her. Other than blinking in surprise, she didn’t move._ _

__After a few seconds there was a beep. Stark’s eyes flitted over the screen. “Okay, then. Well, this isn’t weird at all.”_ _

__Both Hela and Coulson looked expectantly at him to elaborate._ _

__The genius hesitated, glancing at Hel dubiously before turning back to Coulson. “I thought you SHIELD agents were sticklers for keeping confidential findings under wraps, especially from potential suspects.” He jerked a thumb in the direction of Hel and she glared at him._ _

__The SHIELD agent sighs. After a moment’s debate, Coulson said, “Hallway”, and stood up stiffly, from what Hel guessed was the healing wound that she’d seen in Helheim.  
She watched them walk out the interrogation room, and it wasn’t until the door had closed until she realized that Stark still had her bracelet in his hand. Immediately a wave of chills broke out over her and her throat closed up. _ _

__Before the teen registers what she’s doing, she’s half standing. Hel nearly took the few steps to the door to get back what she thought of as her most prized possession before she stopped and actually thought._ _

__It wasn’t like they were going to take it. They weren’t going to steal it. They weren’t going to pawn it like that blonde bitch in school had threatened to last year because she hated Hel.  
…Now she was just overreacting._ _

__With a cross between a whine and a groan she plops back down in the seat. Was this what separation issues were like? Because this obsession with the bracelet was not-_ _

__Hela’s train of thought derails and crashes when an explosion shakes the tower enough to knock her out of her seat._ _

__Which is to say: a lot._ _

__Because that damn chair was bolted to the floor and there should have been no way in hell (heh) that she could have fallen out of it. But she did and now she’s on the floor and she’s hurting where she hit the floor and the lights are out and her head’s ringing._ _

__That’s when she realizes that’s not her head ringing, but an alarm._ _

___Shit._ _ _

__Hela groans and tries to get up, but she really did hit her head when she fell and it hurt. So she’ll take her time while whatever the heck is going on outside her little interrogation room is sorted by people who know what they’re doing-_ _

__Except someone doesn’t give her that option._ _

__Rough hands are grabbing her arms and dragging her up against her will before she has a chance to fight back. She has never been one to scream, but she will use force, so when they do get her up, she does kick out as hard as she can and nail some poor guy in the knee._ _

__In response, she gets cursed at and something cold and metal shoved against her head. It’s a moment before she realizes what it is._ _

__A gun._ _

__That completely drains the fight out of Hel, enough that she’s left feeling cold on the inside and she gathers her wits about her._ _

__The two agents dressed like SWAT agents drag her from the interrogation room to a war zone. The lights are out here too, and little red lights are flashing in time with the alarm sound. Papers were scattered everywhere like a great wind had came through and blown them away. Plainclothes agents were rushing back and forth shouting, most going down the right hallway. …Which was where the agents that had her were dragging her._ _

__They shouted things Hel couldn’t make out into their helmets as they kept an iron grip on her. People cleared paths for them as them saw them, and it scared her that most of them looked at her with fear and hate._ _

__They turned a corner, and that’s when Hel ceased being scared and started being angry and confused._ _

__Standing there with multiple SHIELD agents pointing guns at his head was Loki. He was choking a very surprised, very pissed looking Tony Stark by the throat against the wall in one hand and in the other hand he was clutching Hel’s bracelet. There were shadows and green wisps of energy dancing across his entire body, giving off the pure aura of power._ _

__And, most of all, he looked _angry_. No, not just angry, but downright murderous._ _

__That’s what scared Hel. This was nothing, _nothing_ like the man she had met a year ago. _ _

__This was a someone ready to kil-_ _

__“Loki!”_ _

__The specially trained agents don’t so much as flinch at the commanding voice, but Hela does look to see a black man in a trench coat of all things with an eye patch and a pistol aimed at Loki’s head move up behind the group of agents already surrounding him. His face is fierce when he says, “Put him down. _Now_.”_ _

__The god either doesn’t hear him or doesn’t frankly care. If possible he leans closer to the billionaire, pale face sharp and menacing when he barely utters, “ _Where_ did you get this?” And he tilts his head towards Hel’s bracelet. _ _

__Stark’s eyes don’t even flicker as he shoots a thin grin back at Loki. “Sorry, that’s classified.”_ _

__The hand pinning his throat tightened and Loki’s green eyes literally flashed a bright poison green. “ _Where is she_?”_ _

__He sounded so angry, so cold, so _murderous_ , and all at once Hel started struggling again because if she didn’t something bad was going to happen, something like Loki murdering Tony Fucking Stark right in front of her all because he had her damn bracelet-_ _

__Her elbow strikes one of the agents in the chin (probably hurting her more than him, because she was a wimp). He snaps at her, “You little bitch!”, and grabs her arm to the point where circulation is probably being cut off and wrenches it behind her back again. It hurts. A lot. It makes her angry, angry enough to smash windows like earlier, but all she feels is an empty hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach. No power thrumming through her body, no feeling of buzzing on her skin. It’s almost strangely disappointing, in retrospect she muses, because she could really use that right now to- well, do something._ _

__…On second thought, she can do something. And she's stupid for not thinking of it earlier._ _

__“ _Loki_!” She shouts as loud as she can over whatever the man in the black trench coat is saying as a light brown-haired man runs up in a different SHIELD outfit than the rest, a bow drawn in his hands and a quiver of arrows on his back. “Stop! Stop _hurting_ him!”_ _

__If she’d had the time of day Hela would’ve been amazed at how many heads turned to look at her with incredulous glances._ _

__So many things happened at once it was hard to count them all. Almost._ _

__The one eye he had left went wide as the man with the eye patch said aloud, “What the fuck is she doing _out of her interrogation room_ -“ _ _

__The man with the bow gave her a grim look that flicked between Loki, herself, and the gun the agents were holding to her head._ _

__Loki went still as a statue and the room suddenly dropped several degrees, so much so that Hela could see her breath._ _

__The hallway became very silent, other than the shuffling of SHIELD agents, the background noise of the alarm, and- Thunder?_ _

__“Let her go.” It was a quiet, flat demand, aimed at only the two agents holding Hel._ _

__She could practically feel the hostility and tension bristle up on the agents as they were finally addressed. That’s when she understood. They’d done this under their own orders. They weren’t here under orders from some higher up. They’d done this of their own volition. They’d _wanted_ this confrontation. _ _

__But the question was why?_ _

__She didn’t exactly have time to analyze it and break it down like she did the book of Shakespeare poems Bobby had bought her for her last birthday. Even if she had had the time of day, the teen doubted that she’d been able to think clearly with the cold metal of a gun pressed against her head._ _

__Hela’s breath dances in small, short puffs of fog in front of her face. No one in the crowded hallway says a thing._ _

__Then there’s two sudden intakes of breath and the agents holding her crumple screaming bloody murder._ _

__Hel’s body instantly tenses at the raw, anguished sound and the sight of the two agents that had just been seconds away from blowing her brains out on the floor clutching their heads. It takes her only a moment to figure out what’s happening and her head snaps around to zero in on Loki._ _

__The dark, satisfied look on his face scares her._ _

__What scares her more is the possibility that he could be killing the agents right now, right in front of her, because of her._ _

__So she does the first thing she thinks of: she launches herself at the green and leather clad man and grabs the straps on that ridiculous outfit to pull him down to her level. “ _Stop it_!”_ _

__He looks stunned at first, then confused. “I’m sorry?”_ _

__Hel shakes him forcefully, which isn’t that much because Loki’s so damned tall and built more than she is, but she still shakes him as hard as she can. The sounds of the agents screaming and the other people in the hallway freaking out is echoing in her ears. “You’re _killing_ them!”_ _

__The man’s grip on Tony Stark hasn’t wavered this entire time, but Loki seems to forget all about everything and everyone else now. “They were threatening yo-“_ _

__The teen literally growls out loud, pulling him even closer. “Stop. Killing. Them.”_ _

__The god frowns like he’s debating whether or not to listen to her. He better damn well listen to her, she thinks, or she’ll plant her fist in his face._ _

__The screaming dies down to quiet whimpers, and Hel lets out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. Her fists unclench from the leather straps and Loki leans back like she burned him._ _

__“Uh,” both Hel and Loki break their intense staring contest to glare at the billionaire still held in a choke hold, “Look-“_ _

__She grabs Loki’s arm – and holy cow was it freezing – and forcefully tugs until he drops Stark. The inventor shoots her a grateful glance and hastily scoots away while Loki sends her a look that is so disbelieving and taken back that _she’s_ offended. _ _

__“What?!” she snaps, throwing up her arms, because last time she checked _he_ was the one going around trying to kill people._ _

__His fists clenched at his sides and Loki hissed, “What are you doing?”_ _

__“What am I doin-“_ _

__“Loki Laufeyson, Hela Lokidottir, hands in the air.”_ _

__… _Lokidottir? The hell?__ _

__\------_ _

__They put her in a glass cage. A fucking _glass_ cage._ _

__Albeit a high tech glass cage with different odd looking symbols painted on the glass walls from the outside, but still._ _

__…That was also after they snapped some heavy, unfitting handcuffs around her wrists that were too big and thrummed like they had power in them._ _

__The glass room was just a tad bigger than her interrogation room and had a simple hard cot and fold-up chair. An adjoining room that was thankfully not glass-walled opened to a white, pristine bathroom. Past the glass walls and white painted symbols Hel could see SHIELD agents running about, looking frazzled. Soon the crowd thinned out until all she as left with was a few menacing guards by the doors who ignored her._ _

__Hela was pissed at this point._ _

__She didn’t know what was going on. At the moment, it seemed like everyone had lost their Goddamn minds. Freaking _Loki_ , the key to the door of all her answers, was turning out to be the wrong key for the lock and an ass about it at the same time. SHIELD had been so much help, throwing her in a cell and slapping some cuffs that didn’t even fit on her. Bobby was somewhere other than here with her, which just flat out wasn’t right. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, they’d taken her damn bracelet, like Coulson had promised they wouldn’t-_ _

__Hel stopped dead in her pacing. _Shit_._ _

__Unwillingly her ice blue eyes strayed down to her legs. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of the dark, ugly bruised coloring._ _

__Feeling that old, familiar sensation of dark loathing well up inside her like an old enemy, Hela sank down on the hard cot with her eyes squeezed shut and fists clenched together in the handcuffs._ _

__\------_ _

__“I demand to speak to my brother.”_ _

__“No.”_ _

__“Then I demand to speak to my niece.”_ _

__“You’re not gonna ‘demand’ anything, Thor.”_ _

__The Thunderer’s eyes flashed, and a distinct rumble of thunder could be heard. Before the god could call Mjolnir and make one fried Director of SHIELD, Steve stepped up and held a hand up. “Hold on a second, Thor. He has a point. Is it really such a good idea for you to be talking to Loki?”_ _

__“I do not know what you mean.” The blonde god looked like he knew exactly what they meant, guarded expression and all._ _

__“Well…” Steve trailed off._ _

__“You have a tendency to piss each other off and bash each others face in whenever you talk,” Clint said flatly from where he was sitting on the table cleaning his bow with a tense expression._ _

__Bruce smiled a little and muttered, “That’s one way to put it.”_ _

__Thor huffed. “At least let me speak with Hela. She is an innocent in all of this.”_ _

__“Innocent?” Natasha and Clint echoed disbelievingly while Fury snorted._ _

__The god sighed, blue eyes darkening. “She, along with her siblings, have paid for centuries because of my family’s decisions. Now that I have a chance to…fix my family’s mistakes and salvage her relationship in the Aesir family, I want to take it.”_ _

__Nearly all the rooms occupants sighed. “Thor…”_ _

__Fury huffed a sigh. “We’re going to interrogate her again, and I’ll be handling it personally this time. Thor, you can come with me since she may respond better to you.”_ _

__The thunderer’s face lit up._ _

__“But no questions until I’m done, got it?”_ _

__He sobered a bit, murmuring his assent._ _

__“Good. We’ll pick up Stark from medical so I can get a complete report from the scanning he did earlier.”_ _

__\------_ _

__Hel’s torn between crying or just screaming out. Which is unusual for her, to say the least. She’s usually so sure of where she’s at._ _

__Crying is awfully tempting with the reminder of her bruised legs like a neon sign right in her face. She can’t stop _staring_. Without thinking, she pulls the rough linen sheets off the bed and into her lap, effectively covering any and all gray as the white cloth spills like a waterfall onto the floor and over her feet. _ _

__Her fists clench, and unclench. She hates this for a million reasons. Clench, unclench. Repeat. Over and over and over and over and-_ _

__There’s the hiss of the fancy, no doubt bulletproof door opening and Hel flinches._ _

__She almost doesn’t look up as Tony Stark, Thor, and the man in the black trench coat walked in, each in a different manner. For a man who had just been nearly choked to death hours earlier, he walked like he was on his daily walk. Thor looked grim and determined where the last man was closed off._ _

__Hela stares at Thor, then at the cuffs on her wrists while thinking of the glass cage around her. Did they really think she was that much of a threat, enough to bring in one of the ‘heavy-hitter’s’ of the Avengers, as the media had put it?_ _

__Well. She couldn’t decide if that was flattering or disturbing that the government was afraid of a teenage girl._ _

__“Ahem.”_ _

__…And she should really pay more attention._ _

__All three of them were focused on her, laser-like and sharp in their own way. The man with the eye patch started off with, “Miss Hel, you are aware of who Loki Odinson is, correct?”  
 _Stupid question_. Judging from how Stark rolled his eyes, he thought so, too._ _

__“Yes.”_ _

__“Then why in God’s good name would you be _searching him out_?”_ _

__These were basically a repeat of what Coulson had asked her. Hel liked Coulson better. “Because I need answers,” she said flat out, like that would explain everything._ _

__The man paused a beat, waiting for an answer, then said a little more forcefully, “Care to explain answers to what? Or how you know Loki has them?”_ _

__She glared at him. Coulson was definitely better. “Don’t I get a lawyer? And handcuffs that actually fit?”_ _

__Stark said, “Well, those actually weren’t designed for you and they’re the only ones we have, so-“_ _

__Eye-Patch glared at him, cutting in. “So you claim to have had no previous encounters with Loki?”_ _

__Hela threw her hands in the air as best as she could. “How could I? All I’ve done is come to New York and completely screw up whatever chance I thought I had at this.”_ _

__He leaned in closer, intimidating. “You seemed awfully familiar with him in that hallway earlier.”_ _

__She resisted leaning back and swallowed the feeling in her throat as the lie came easy. Which, it was really a half-truth. “Yeah, well, he was killing two of your agents and Ton- Um, Mr. Stark.”_ _

__“Thanks for that, by the way,” Stark said to her, tilting his head to her as he crossed his arms. Uncomfortable, the teen nodded and mumbled an apology._ _

__“They’ll be paying for that,” said Eye-Patch, “seeing as you weren’t to be removed from your interrogation room in the first place.”_ _

__“So they’re okay?”_ _

__Eye-Patch stared at her like she was an alien. She was getting that a lot more lately. “Yeah, they’ll be okay.”_ _

__Thor, speaking up for the first time, said, “Director, I would like to speak to m- Hela alone.”_ _

__Well, this could be her chance. The ‘Director’ cast another suspicious look at her but gave the Avenger a tight nod before stalking out of the room. As the door hissed open for him, Hel kinda wished it would hit him on the way out. Sadly, it didn’t._ _

__Surprisingly, Stark didn’t leave with him, and she wasn’t quite sure if she was grateful for that or not._ _

__In her distraction Thor had taken the only chair in the room and pulled it closer to her bed. It was odd to see the giant rock of a man leaning forward in a fold-up chair and clasping his hands together somewhat nervously._ _

__Something at the back of her mind was bothering her, whispering too faint words as she looked into the god’s open blue eyes and _saw_ something._ _

__Something familiar._ _

__“Hela?”_ _

__She blinked._ _

__“Do you know who I am?”_ _

__She hesitated as the memories of mythology web pages and old paintings or carvings of God of Thunder flashed through her mind. “…Yeah, I do.”_ _

__He smiled, gentle and small like the action might scare her. This whole thing scared her. “I know this may sound…strange, but do you perhaps…remember me?”_ _

__Hel frowned. She should. She knew. The thing at the back of her mind whispering told her. “No.”_ _

__The – dare she say it – hopeful light in his eyes dimmed just a little and his smile grew even smaller, even sadder._ _

__“But I should, shouldn’t I?” She reached up to run a hand through her hair, brush it out of her face, something, and the action just reminded her that she was in too-large handcuffs._ _

__Tony Stark stepped forward, smiling apologetically and reaching for the cuffs. “Sorry about that. SHIELD gets a little over-excited when it comes to restraining prisoners. It’s a weird kink, if you ask me.”_ _

__Hel watched him press and slide panels on the plating of the cuffs, experienced hands working fast. It was like a puzzle, one that she could never have figured out, and in seconds there was a beeping noise and the hinges on both of the cuffs snapped open making her jump a little._ _

__“Hela,” Thor continued as the inventor took the handcuffs, leaving her to rub her wrists, “I do not believe you told Director Fury the truth when you said that you had never encountered Loki before.”_ _

__She bristled at first (she hated being called a liar, even if it was true), but then she saw the open look on his face. It was kind of hard to lie to that raw, open honesty._ _

__Hel sighed, “I told Coulson already.”_ _

__“Well, tell us,” Stark said flatly._ _

__“I…met him in a dream.”_ _

__“That’s specific.”_ _

__“Tony,” Thor rumbled in that thunderous tone that clearly said ‘shut up’._ _

__The billionaire held up his hands. “Sorry, just saying.”_ _

__The teen continued, wondering how much she could tell them before they thought she was crazy. “Um… This is going to sound insane, but ever since I can remember, I’ve always had the same dream.” She frowned, thinking about it. “…And yet, it’s not the same dream every time.”_ _

__Thor looked away. “In this dream, are you…in a fortress?”_ _

__“Yeah, I guess, if you want to call Elivdnir that.”_ _

__Surprisingly, they both didn’t shoot her questioning looks at the odd name. They just looked more alert._ _

__Hel feels her gaze go a little unfocused, thinking about the marbled halls that felt so right when she there. “And in Elivdnir, I’m Queen. Of Helheim. I have a manservant named Ganglati and a maidservant named Ganglot. Each night I direct souls into different levels of Helheim, based on their sins. Each night there’s different souls waiting. Each night is different.”_ _

__Stark said incredulously, “And you never thought that was a little bit weird?”_ _

__She snapped back to focus and glared at him. “Yes, I thought it was weird, but there’s a lot of things about me everyone considers ‘weird’. If I went around telling people I had the same dream every night that I was queen of a mythological Underworld, don’t you think I’d be in some asylum in a straightjacket right now?”_ _

__He shrugged. “Okay, point.”_ _

__“When did you meet Loki in these dreams?” Thor interrupted._ _

__Hela twisted her fingers into the sheets, remembering seeing Loki on the TV attacking Manhattan and trying to compare it to the same man she’d met in her dream. “A year before the attack on Manhattan.”_ _

__The inventor and God of Thunder shared a look. “That’d be, what, a month or two after-,” Tony started, but Thor cut him off with a curt, “Yes.”_ _

__She looked between them, curiosity kindled. A month after what, she wondered._ _

__“In this dream,” the god asked, “what did he do? What did he say?”_ _

__Hela hesitated. She felt like by sharing what had happened, she was sharing something intimate. Something that had been between just herself and Loki. But still. “We went for a walk and talked. He showed me a part of Helheim I’ve never been in before. When it was time for him to leave, I…asked him if I’d see him again, and he said he planned on making it happen.”_ _

__The teen frowned to herself. Part of her wished she could go back to that walk. Everything was so much simpler, so much more ordered then._ _

__Shaking herself out of it, she added, “He also gave me a bracelet.”_ _

__Stark reach into his pocket, pulling out said golden bracelet. “This one?”_ _

__She wanted to be mad that he had kept it for so long, but part of her still felt bad that he’d be throttled by Loki just because he had the bracelet. He was still a little disheveled from said throttling and she could see bruising around his neck. So she let her anger go for the moment and held her hand out for it. “Yeah, that one. Can I have it back now?”_ _

__He seemed more amused than anything at her irritation. “Sure thing, kid. Catch.”_ _

__Hel caught the charm bracelet in the air. Immediately the cool of the metal seeped into her skin and she instantly felt better from just holding it. Wasting no time, she slipped it around her wrist and felt the familiar tingle. A weight lifted from her shoulders._ _

__Thor was frowning at her, or more specifically the bracelet, as she pulled the sheets off her legs and was secretly relieved to see smooth pale skin. “There is magic infused in that bracelet. I can sense it. But it is not completely Loki’s magic. It is…tainted.”_ _

__Hel determinedly started studying the jewelry for any damage. Nope, she didn’t know anything about magic. Nothing at all._ _

__Stark said, “Yeah, about that: when I scanned her and it, I got some _weird_ readings, Thor. The frequencies match up with both Loki’s magic and the energy given off by the Cube.”_ _

__A picture of a Rubik’s cube popped into her head and she bit her lip to keep from smiling._ _

__The thunderer paused, thinking that over. Then, “That is worrying.”_ _

__“Something we agree on,” the inventor muttered, then asked, “Hel, has anything changed since he gave you that bracelet?”_ _

__Hela wondered briefly if he’d seen her legs earlier in the hallway when Loki was attacking, but she guessed with all the action he hadn’t noticed. “Like what?”_ _

__He gave her a knowing look. “Like, oh, I don’t know… Exploding windows? Frostbite hands? Hiding the true color of your legs?”_ _

__Her eyes shot up to finally look him in the face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied._ _

__Thor leaned forward a little to get her attention. “Hel, please. We must know if we are to help you.”_ _

__When he put it like that and gave her that look… With the sense that she was making a mistake, the teen unclasped the bracelet and let it drop into her lap. The illusion on her legs faded and the gray bled into the pale skin, tainting it until it was all mottled gray bruising. She looked away so she didn’t have to see their reactions._ _

__Stark let out a low curse and Thor didn’t say anything. The corners of her mouth twisted at the familiar dark emotion that arose from showing anyone the true colors of her legs._ _

__A large, warm hand on her knee made her jump and she looked up. Thor was smiling at her, truly happy._ _

__Hela blinked. What?_ _

__The god said with warmth, “Do not be ashamed, niece. If I harbored any doubts that you were truly who I thought you to be, they are gone now.”_ _

__“Niece?” she repeated, feeling detached from her body._ _

__He smiled wider, blue eyes twinkling. “You are my niece, Hela. Loki is your father. You are Hela Lokidottir.”_ _

__She blinked. There it was again. _Lokidottir_. _ _

__Somewhere in the distance, she heard Tony Stark say, “…Thor, big guy, I think you broke her…”_ _

__Something gripped her head, and it was a few seconds before she realized it was her own hand._ _

__By all rights, she should be saying, _You’re crazy. You’re insane. My father? Bullshit.__ _

__But she wasn’t. Because she’d thought the very same thing. It was what inspired this whole trip, the little crazy, insane idea that she was daughter of a mythological god who wasn’t so mythological up until a few months ago._ _

__Still. Hearing the actual words said out loud and confirmed…_ _

__It was like being sucker punched._ _

__She took a deep breath. Lowered her hand. Said as steady as she could manage, “I want to see him.”_ _

__The inventor said, “Um…”, and Thor looked happier. “I had guessed that you might. He will be very happy to see you.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have it, folks. Took me forever, but in my defense, I battled through writer’s block, bronchitis, and a sinus infection to finish this. 
> 
> NEXT CHAPTER: We finally get to the part I’ve been excited to write! Hel and Loki meeting in real life. But be warned, the reunion won’t exactly be all hugs and tears… Also, we finally find out what the hell happened to Bobby, and where things go from here. Here’s a hint: out of this world. ;)


	5. He did not choose me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note #1: So... VERY long time, no post. SO, so sorry. Here, takes a long chap.
> 
> Note #2: Each flash back (the lengthy italics) is a different life. They’re in order from history as much as possible. And I’m not even doing a flashback for EACH life. :l 
> 
> WARNINGS: angst galore, insanity, denial, severe injustice to history, indirect(?) and/or past mentionings of suicide

Chapter 4: "I've got one friend laying across from me, I did not choose him, he did not choose me" ~ _Hospital Beds_ , Florence + the Machine

Hela was pretty sure they weren’t cleared for this. But, hell, Thor and Stark were Avengers, so she guessed that let them get by with a lot. 

She literally had no preparation for meeting her supposed father. The holding cell he was in – exactly identical to hers – was in the next freaking room. So Tony Stark walked a little ahead of them, flashing an ID and arguing with stubborn, suspicious guards when it was necessary. Thor walked next to her like he was either there for her comfort or protection. Probably both, judging from the looks of loathing they got from the guards. 

Maybe it was a good thing it was such a short trip, she thought to herself.

They had even more guards for Loki it seemed, and when they finally reached the last checkpoint, the very last one separating her from the man that had all her answers, the guards put up more resistance. Hel tuned out of the argument as Thor put a hand on her shoulder, saying something along the lines of, “She is with us…” and peered past the glass of the cell to totally not stare at the Number One Most Wanted Criminal on SHIELD’s radar. 

Loki sat as still as a statue, eyes closed and elbows on his knees, fingers steeped since he really couldn’t do anything else as he was wearing the same high tech handcuffs she had been earlier. She suddenly felt her mouth go very dry and her mind go blank. 

“…Kid?” Someone said. 

The teen blinked. “Hmm?”

Stark had his hands in his pockets, searching her face for something. “Look, those guards are only going to go as far as the hallway,” he jerked his head towards the doors they had come through, “and they’ll only stay out there as long as they don’t think anything is going on. I don’t think they’re going to give you very much time, so you might want to get everything out of the way pretty quick.”

“Are you ready for this, Hela?” Thor asked with deep, concerned blue eyes. Briefly she wondered how he could care so much about her when he barely knew her. 

She ran a hand through her hair. “As ready as I’ll ever be. Are you going to stay out here?”

Stark nodded, “We’re going to make sure nothing happens, too.”

“He wouldn’t hurt me.”

“You may believe that, but I prefer to be on the safe side when it comes to Loki.” 

Then he was entering a code in the keypad, and the doors were opening. 

\------

As soon as Hel walked into the room, Loki’s eyes opened. 

It was cold in the room, and it got even colder when she walked in. It wasn’t that different from the cold of Helheim, though, so it didn’t bother her much. What did bother her was the intensity the trickster was watching her with now. 

His cell was furnished just the same as hers had been so she slowly dragged the fold-up chair closer to him but still a safe distance away with no small amount of uncertainty. And he just…watched. Seated with her legs crossed and hands in her lap, she said frowning, “Hello.”

And he finally smiled, small but tired. “Hello, Hel.” But made no move to say anything else.

Hela sighed and fidgeted. She hated awkward silences. “Um… So. Thor told me that-“ She looked away. “Well. Are you my father?” Wow, that was hard.

It was Loki’s turned to sigh. “He told you, did he?” A pause. “And if I were your father, dear Hela, what precisely would you think of that?” His voice had gone quiet. 

Unconsciously she fiddled with the bracelet while thinking over her response. Looking back up, “I guess that would depend on you, I guess.”

Now that she was closer to him, she could see the differences she hadn’t seen earlier. He didn’t look sick, like he had when he had attacked Earth, but he still had weary shadows under his eyes. “I’m not sure I understand.”

A new surge of nervousness burst in her stomach at what she was about to say, worried at how he would react. But at the same time a tiny amount of hope bloomed with it. “Well, you know, I- I’d really like it if you were my father because- well, I don’t have one right now, so it’d be really nice. But you can’t- you can’t kill people. You can’t be a…bad guy anymore. I don’t want you to be fighting the Avengers. That’d… That’d really suck.”

Hel: eloquent not be thy name. 

A hard, almost guarded look had settled look on his face. “I have not killed someone _intentionally_ in a very long time. And never make the mistake of assuming I have ever killed for fun.”

Her hands flew up. “I’m not saying that! When I came here, to find you, I, um, brought my best friend with me, and he was pretty reluctant because of, you know, who you were. But one of my biggest arguments was that you hadn’t killed anyone since Manhattan, that it was mostly just pranks.” 

Loki’s expression softens slightly at that. “I was looking for you and your brothers while biding time. That has been my main intent for coming to Midgard this entire time.”

There’s so many different reactions she has to those two sentences (Brothers? Holy shit, I have brothers. – Why’d you just now come to Earth? Which raises the even more important question of how I’m only a teenager… - Then why launch such a large attack on Earth if all you’re doing now is pranks?) but she can’t voice that all in one question, so she continues with her earlier point, “Look, just… What I’m saying- You can’t be on the wrong side of the law anymore. You can’t be my dad if you’re being chased by SHIELD.”

Hel pauses. “When I first came in, they treated me like a criminal. I had handcuffs like yours. They put me in a cell like this one. They interrogated me. I didn’t get why at first. And…now I do. It’s because I’m your daughter.”

Loki looks away. “I am truly sorry for that. Things were never meant to turn out like this.” Sad, tired green eyes met blue again, and he said, “Do you know what happens if I surrender to these people, Hel? Do you?”

Admittedly, she hadn’t thought that far.

“They will try to punish me for the lives taken and the damage caused and the vengeful anger that drives this SHIELD. On Asgard, I should be put to death, but as I am still nobility and I have crimes to be paid for here, Odin will honor his treaty with this realm and punish me in a way that leaves me still capable of serving out punishment on this planet.”

Hela had closed her eyes by now, swallowing. The thought of having the man that was apparently her father put to death, just as she had found him, was one of the many inequities of her life. 

So, she wouldn’t let it happen. Simple as that. 

Clear blue eyes opened. “I’m not going to let that happen.”

A bittersweet smile spread across his face. “I’m afraid it is beyond your power. The only way to prevent it from happening is to keep fighting, unfortunately. But my true mission above everything is to reunite you and your brothers. Once I have succeeded, this can end and we can live where no one will bother us, I swear.”

Her mouth set in a hard line. “So in other words you’re going to keep running.”

His expression turned to one of confusion and the beginnings of annoyance. “I did not say that.”

“But you did,” Hel said flatly. “Instead of trying to find a solution to your problem, you’re running. You’re going to do the same thing you’ve been doing, the same unsuccessful thing you’ve been doing. Do you know how much easier it would be to find my- your other kids if you had SHIELD’s help?”

An emerald fire had lit in Loki’s eyes. “I do not want the help of these puny mortals who thought they could harness the power of gods. Also, these people are a mere annoyance. They are not my ‘problem’. My problem is that my children were taken from me and scattered across an alien realm. If I am looking for a solution to anything, it is that.”

Well, there was a story there to be told. But not for now. “Okay, look, I get that, I do. But there are loopholes in everything. Everything. Surely there’s something that could get you out of being thrown in prison, either here or on, uh, Asgard?”

“If there is, which I sincerely doubt, it has not been used in a very long time.”

Hel wanted to tear her hair out. “Fuck it, you are such a pessimist. My God.”

And then the oddest thing happened. The trickster smiled, sad and reminiscent. “You are _so_ very much like your mother. You have her eyes.”

“Um,” was the teen’s response.

Well, if he wanted to shut her up, that was one way to do it.

Not waiting for her fried brain to restart, Loki shifted, sitting up a little straighter, looking a little more eager and a live than he had a few moments before. “Do you want to remember?”

“Huh?” She again replied eloquently.

His brow furrowed. “You do not honestly believe you are the current age of the mortal body you have.”

“Um. Well. No, I don’t, I guess. I mean, I’m still processing the fact that I’m not…you know…”

“A weak mortal?”

“First of all,” Hel snapped sharply, “they’re not ‘weak mortals’. They’re humans. They’re not pretty or perfect or kind or eco-friendly, but I’ve lived with them my entire life. Most of them are asses, but some of them aren’t that bad. Second, I might as well be mortal because I’m not that powerful. All I’ve done is bust windows and glasses when I get angry and quite frankly, its scary. Third, what the hell do you mean ‘remember’?”

“Hela, I was alerted to your presence here in the Avengers Tower by the extreme amount of pure power you released. Hence the reason I rushed so quickly. It…frightened me to think that something could have made you set off such a power discharge while in such close vicinity of Avengers Tower. You are very mistaken of your potential if you think you are not powerful.” Loki sighed, but somehow made it seem elegant in a way that could only come with a lifetime of noble raising. “As for your past lives-“

“Woah, one freaking second, hold the damn phone, _past lives_ , as in past tense and plural?“

“Let me finish,” he cut her off. “It was centuries ago when you and your brothers were taken from me. You were too young to remember, but I suspect that Jormungandr has the barest of memories and Fenrir definitely will remember. As they were too old to forget, Odin would not forcefully work magic on them to wipe their memories of their life on Asgard. He placed Fenrir in the forests of Midgard and Jormungandr in the oceans. But he took a small mercy on you. He made you mortal and placed you in the care of mortals. By day, you were human. At night you were in the hall of Elivdnir, guiding souls to their resting place so that the natural order of things would continue and people would continue to die. When you awoke you were mortal again.”

Hel blinked, because, when he put it like that, it sounded…simple, insane, about right. “Okay, well, if this happened centuries ago, what about when I died? At the end of my ‘mortal life’? Was I, like, reincarnated?”

“Yes,” he said in all seriousness.

She stared. “You’re freaking kidding me.”

“I do not see why I would 'kid' about this.”

Her hands threaded themselves through her hair as she leaned forward. “That’s-“

He narrowed his eyes, daring her to say it. 

“Okay, well, it sounds insane, okay?”

Loki grinned a crooked smile and said somewhat sympathetically, “I am the God of Chaos, my dear. Do you really think a small thing such as reincarnation would phase me?”

It was Hel’s turn to narrow her eyes. Now she knew he was just messing with her. “Well, around here, reincarnation is a big thing. Like, it doesn’t happen. So, if I’ve apparently been reincarnated several times since- When?”

“1600’s in human years, I believe.” 

“Jesus. Anyways, why don’t I…remember any of that? Surely there’d be something. A flash, a muscle memory, from a past life.”

His eyes had darkened slightly. “As I said before, Odin repressed your memories. The Allfather’s will has lasted even through all these centuries. Which leads me back to my earlier question. Would you like to remember?”

_Yes. No. Jury's still out._

“Eh… You only live once, I guess? Wait, that doesn’t apply here-“ 

But Loki was already was reaching for her head, hands glowing a muted green in the cuffs. “I will not lie, this shall hurt.”

She didn’t really have time to back out before the barest touch of skin brushed her forehead and the room plunged into darkness. 

\------

He was right, it did hurt. 

But then Hel was too swept up in everything else to register the pain, and soon that Hel became no more.

\------

_Hel comes home to their little cottage bruised, cut, and bloody._

_Her mother cries when she thinks Hel isn’t looking as she cleans her cuts and listens to Hel’s story of how the boys threw rocks at her on her way home from the well. She looks at her mother’s golden hair, and thinks of how the boys had called her a creature of the shadows, unnatural, the very thing that laid at the bottom of the well._

_She looks at her mother’s golden hair, and wonders if they’re right._

_When her father is out in the village trying to hunt the boys down, Hel asks her mother where she came from._

_That day, she’s no longer Hel’s mother. That day, she becomes the woman who took Hel in one cold winter night as a baby._

_\------_

_Her wrists strain against the rough rope bound around her wrists. The wooden pole behind her back is hard and makes the position a thousand times more uncomfortable._

_The smell of oil hits Hel’s nose hard and her stomach roils. Not for the first time, her panic makes all thoughts scatter._

_The oil-slick kindling and branches she’s standing on shift under her feet. Hate filled eyes stare up at her._

_All these people gathered here today to watch her die. People she had called her friends._

_On the words of a man who had been making advances on her for months now._

_The very man holding the torch at the front of the crowd right now._

_Somehow Hel doubted he’d want to court her very much if he saw her legs beneath her skirt._

_“Witch,” they’d said, “witch, so close to our children! Burn her! Burn her!”_

_As if she’d dare hurt the children she taught in the town’s one room school house._

_The man who had tried to court her and Hel had turned down, Richard, stared up at her with some odd combination of remorse and satisfaction. “Do you deny that the accusations that you are a witch, woman?”_

_Some cold anger settled Hel’s bones and she raised her head. “I do.”_

_“Very well,” he said flatly._

_With a great toss, he threw the torch on the oil-slicked kindling pile at her feet. She barely had time to instinctively jerk backwards against the pole she was tied to as it caught and spread._

_Hel screams as her skirt catches fire and she discovers what the smell of burning flesh smells like._

_\------_

_Hel watches as a woman is hanged for being a witch in the town square of their little town._

_She gets sick before the woman is fully dead and hurries from the crowd, trying to draw as little attention as possible. Chills make the hair on the back of her neck stand up in the cool, crisp morning air._

_America, they say. Land of the free. The irony brings a small smile to Hela’s face as she’s leaning over by the well, throwing up the contents of her stomach._

_\------_

_“Helena, do try this one on, will you?”_

_That’s not Hel’s name. She knows._

_“Yes, Mother.” She takes the green velvet lined hat that would match with the dress she was trying on and balances the small thing precariously on her head, not bothering to check in the mirror. Really, she could care less what she wore for her honeymoon._

_Her mother tuts. “Your fiancée will be here tomorrow, Helena. If you don’t straighten up your act, he won’t want to marry you! No one likes a moody bride.”_

_“I don’t want to marry him.”_

_“Honey, it doesn’t matter if you want to or not,” her mother says lightly, brushing a hand over Hel’s shoulder before turning to another rack of hats. “He owns a good portion of land on the Mississippi and runs a mill. Money like that can pay the taxes on our land.”_

_“So what is in this for me, Mother? Nothing but a title? A name?”_

_“Helena, don’t over think it,” Mother says flatly. “Things could be much worse. Look forward to the children you’ll have one day, the grandchildren, why don’t you? Try not to be so negative. You have so much to look forward to.”_

_Hel thought about it, and honestly didn’t see what there was to look forward to. A boring, loveless high society life alone in a giant, cold manor raising who knows how many children by herself? No._

_So when hours later her body was found hanging from the ceiling in her bedroom, perhaps the only one unsurprised was her mother._

_\------_

_She has episodes. Episodes of fire, scorching, burning, consuming fire, and they locked her up._

_Locked her up with the crazies, the sick people, and now she’s in a straitjacket. Like a sick person._

_They said she was sick. That she had to get better. The only way to do that was to go through with the treatment._

_Hel didn’t like the treatment. The doctors poked and prodded her like a science project more than a patient and muttered rude things about her legs, not caring to hide it because they thought that just because she was sick that she was deaf, too._

_-no! She wasn’t sick! Sick people were crazy, and she-_

_The nurses here were terrible. Most of them treated her and the other patients like trash. A few of them were kind, some indifferent. Hel would take indifferent over hostile._

_It’s not just the nurses, though._

_The other patients, they’re the ones that really bother her. Some have episodes like her, hallucinations, others have disorders, a lot were depressed._

_-depression was bad, she wasn’t depressed, depression was black, gray, blue, like her eyes, her legs, no, she wasn’t depressed, they were-_

_But that’s not what bothers her about the patients._

_When Hel looks out her little tiny window into the frozen field and shivers in the filthy contraption restraining her arms, she can hear the others screaming as they suffer episodes like her own, visions like her own._

_-hers are real, hers are calling her, hers aren’t crazy, they’re not visions, they’re part of-_

_And as she counts the different shades of black, gray, and blue in the field, surrounded by chaos and cold, it somehow feels almost right in this little world. That’s what bothers her._

_\------_

_They were going to die. She could feel it._

_Hateful men with guns shouted in German outside the boxcar, in which she and several other people from her town had been stuffed like livestock. It was sickening. The air here was sickening._

_The door slides open to let gray daylight pour in and her townspeople fell out to the ground. The hateful men in uniforms began forcefully pulling people out while her mother pulled her up into her arms and jumped from the train. Looking back inside, Hel could see some people were not getting up. They weren’t moving at all, a deadlier stillness than sleep._

_The men with guns began separating the men and women, and Hel watched silently as they went through the two groups, silently studying each man or woman with a scrutinizing gaze until they barked an order for them to go to another group by a giant bottomless pit, separate and bigger than the rest._

_Her mother grasped her hand tightly without a word, so that meant she couldn’t talk either. But then she felt a tickle in her throat and wished more than anything that she could clear her throat to get rid of it._

_The men were making there way down the line of women to her and her mother. Many women had already been taken. Her mother’s grip was so tight._

_All of a sudden Hel wheezed and coughed, finally relieving the tickle in her throat._

_Heads turned towards her. Her mother’s grip was bruising._

_Then one of the men was grabbing her by her arm and tearing her from her mother, tossing her towards the group of men and women by the pit as she cried. One of the men caught her – the baker her mother had bought pastries from on special days – and shushed her, lifting her up like the father Hel had the barest of memories of. He ran a hand through her hair, whispering that it would be alright over the screams of her mother begging the men with guns._

_Hel cried, fists twisted in his wool jacket, and looked down into the pit._

_It wasn’t bottomless. Pale, white faces stared back at her with blank dead eyes._

_She stopped crying._

_\------_

_Look at that, they said, a white girl at a negro’s funeral._

_Well, they can screw themselves, Hel thinks. She lays a rose on top of the coffin, taking a moment, before retreating to the back of the crowd._

_Her long black floor-length cotton dress rustles around her, and she hates it more than anything, especially now in the summer at her best friend’s funeral with the family staring at her like they have the right to judge._

_Tamara was the only kind soul Hel had ever met, and now she’s gone because of a hate crime._

_If the police weren’t so damned prejudiced, she thinks as she watches the coffin be lowered, maybe they would investigate further._

_But in the sixties its just a black girl that got hit on her way home. It’d be a different story if it was a white girl, but that’s just how the world works, she guesses._

\------

Hel screams. Out loud. In the here and now. It takes her a moment to distinguish that little fact, from the past and present. 

Another moment to feel cool hands gripping her face. 

And the last moment is spent blacking out. 

\------

Despite popular belief, Bobby isn’t stupid. 

“What did you _do_?”

So sometimes he wishes people wouldn’t treat him like it. It takes a lot to get his point across those few times he does care what people think.

Now is one of those times, when all the adults shoot him a glare or sharp look but otherwise ignore him. 

Effing douchebags in stupid uniforms- “Uh, hello? That’s my best friend in there screaming and you obviously brought me here for a reason-“

“Just shut up, okay kid?” One of them says, hand on his gun and glancing nervously at the doors to the infirmary. 

Bobby mutters darkly in his seat and shifts his bandaged hands, wincing at the ache in the frost bite burns. The only female of the four agents that had escorted him here from his interrogation room shot him a sympathetic glance.

There’s so much commotion and a lot of shouting from behind the infirmary and the fact that he can’t hear Hel doing any of it worries. And he knows she’s in there. He’d heard the screams. 

Yeah, he’s pretty pissed at SHIELD. But he’s more scared now. 

The infirmary doors suddenly slide open to reveal Tony Stark and Bobby kinda freezes for a moment because, hello, Ironman? 

It gets even weirder when the billionaire points at him and say, “You’re Bobby, right?”

“Um.”

“Good, get in there.” A thumb jerks over his shoulder to the doors. 

Bobby’s already up and moving by the time he’s finished speaking. 

One of the agents grabs his arms, effectively stopping him. “Is that really a good idea?”

Bobby opens his mouth to snap something back but Stark beats him to it. “It's my idea, so of course it is.”

“We were ordered to bring him here-“

“So he could go right in there and do a better job at handling the situation than any of you could. Now let. Him. Go.”

Needless to say, the agent does. “We were only ordered to bring him with us, not let him see the other prisoner.”

Bobby’s already through the door when the inventor says, “Guess what? I don’t care.” 

Inside, there’s even more agents standing around with weapons and he just really wants to say, ‘Really?’ But there’s a more important mission that calls his attention so he searches the crowded room for Hel. 

All he can see is hospital beds pushed up against one wall, each separated with curtains and surrounded by hospital machines and whatnot. A few of them are filled with what he guesses are wounded agents of SHIELD, even the most beaten up of all of them awake and alert because of the noise and crowd. 

Speaking of- 

There’s one bed that’s farthest from any wounded agent surrounded by a mass of white doctor coats and nurse uniforms mixed with the dark of SHIELD` uniforms who all looked on the verge of a breakdown. 

Well, that’s a pretty good bet. 

He’s not two feet away from pushing himself in the middle of all of them when a doctor suddenly turns to him, frazzled and pale. “Are you Bobby?” the man asks in a odd accent. 

“Yeah?”

“Good.” The teen is suddenly being pushed into the thick of the crowd as the foreign doctor yells for everyone to step back. 

When he sees Hel for the first time in what feels like days, Bobby suddenly wishes he hadn’t been right. 

They had what had to at least six blankets piled on top of her, and despite the sweat on her brow he can feel cold radiating from her. Her eyelids are closed but beneath that her eyes are whipping around wildly, caught in dream or nightmare. She looks paler than normal and he can’t even see the rise of her chest as she breathes. Her lips are tinged blue.

Hel looks dead. And it’s the scariest thing he’s ever seen. 

\------

For the first time in her life, Hela dreams. 

Actual dreams, not Helheim, which, according to everyone that knew what the heck was going on, was an actual place. 

Dreams are weird, she immediately decides. 

In Elivdnir, everything felt real. Like when she was awake. This… This felt just weird. 

There wasn’t a moment she opened her eyes to see the actual dream, but rather she didn’t see anything one moment and then saw everything in the next. 

At first glance, it was brightly lit. But then she actually focused on what she was seeing, and it took any breath she had in the dream away. 

There was a glowing, endless field of prairie grass. No, glowing wasn’t the right word. But she could see the golden field as clear as though the sun was shining right down on it. 

Which it wasn’t, as she discovered by looking up.

Above her was millions, billions of stars, some of them falling across the midnight blue sky and leaving a trail. There was too many moons to be Earth’s night sky and she could see what looked like Jupiter big and bright in the sky. 

Yeah, this definitely was not Earth’s sky.

Hel didn’t feel like she was in control of her actions as she turned without thought to see a figure on the horizon. The light from the field was too bright to make them out, so she starting walking. 

It took forever yet no time at all to get there. 

Bobby was smiling at her, carefree and happy in a way she hadn’t seen since his father had had his accident and started drinking. It was a nice smile, she decided as he laid down in the prairie grass, putting his hand in hers and pulling her down with him. 

It was then that Hela realized that the grass was gold and the light coming off it was the radiance of the metallic grass. 

Together they split the grass with their bodies and laid on their backs to gaze up at the stars. She couldn’t hear anything, but Hel could see everything. And it was the most beautiful thing she’d seen.

It was like every clear night they’d climbed up on the roof of Bobby’s house, sat watching the stars and talked about the future, politics, religion, global warming, and everything else to kingdom come.

Dreams really weren’t that bad, Hel decided.

\------

When she started to wake up, it was slow and dark. 

Hel wasn’t in the field anymore, instead emerging from the depths of sleep surrounded in darkness and the far off memory of the dream slipped further and further away. It was slow and harder to open her eyes than her normal sleep. 

And when she did, she was mildly disgusted. 

She was in a hospital bed, covered in blankets upon blankets and- Had they changed her clothes for a hospital gown? Seriously? A TV was in the corner, off, and the only noise was the beeping of machines and snoring.

Which was the source of her disgust. 

Bobby had his head laid on his arms, which just happened to be laying on her arm, and he was drooling. 

“Gross,” she muttered and tugged her arm out – Hello, nerves in her arm, long time no feel – and rubbed the drool in his shaggy blonde hair.

Her head felt sore and full. Literally too full. A flash of images rushed forward uncalled and Hel sucked in a breath at the sheer amount and feeling behind them. With a wince she pressed a hand to her temple and glared at the IV tugging at her arm. 

“Heeeellllllll?”

Bobby was sitting up, blinking blearily and having trouble rubbing his eyes because of- 

Oh. 

“My God, did I do that?” Without waiting for an answer she reached for his bandaged hands and tried in vain to sit up in the hospital bed to get a better look. 

After waiting her slide around in the sheets and struggle under the blankets for a few moments, he asked tonelessly, “Having trouble there?”

“Screw you, jerk, I was worried about you.”

Trying to hide a smile, he managed to punch the button with his knuckle and raise the back of the bed some. “You weren’t the only one, okay?”

“But your hands-“

“You’re in a hospital bed, H. Don’t argue with me.”

She just glared back at him with no real heat, knowing that he was right and hating it. 

If he saw her weak glare, he didn’t acknowledge it. Looking away, Bobby tried to run a bandaged hand through his hair before remembering that it was still mummified. Sighing, he said, “Hel… You looked…”

“Dead?” She only half-joked, thinking wryly of Loki’s words and the things she’d seen. 

He finally met her eyes, and the fire in them scared her. He was angry. Actually angry. Cool, chilled, roll-with-it Bobby was mad. 

“Bobby?”

“You’re damn lucky I have self-restraint, you know that?” The teen fidgeted more nervously. 

“Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not. I should be asking you that. You’re an idiot when you want to be.”

“Thanks.”

“Welcome, stupid.” His light blonde head flopped down on the bed, half smashing his face against her leg. “My hands hurt.” 

Hel’s hand found its way to his hair and tangled her fingers in it. “I can call a nurse for painkillers…”

He grunted.

Guilt twinged again and she punched the nurse button on the remote by her bed. This was how big talks more or less went between them. A few words between them was an entire book of things that only they could decipher, and it usually ended in one of them half-heartedly calling the other something out of affection more than irritation. It was their language, one they’d perfected through the years. 

And she couldn’t think of anyone who she’d rather have to share it with. 

A comfortable silence reined, broken by the beeping of machines and-

Wait.

“Bobby,” she whispered, “do you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“That…rustling? It almost sounds like really faint whis-“

“Hel, all I hear is the machines and us whispering. Which, why are we whispering?”

The teen is silent for a moment. It’s gone now. Her eyes close and she’s glad Bobby has his face buried in the blankets of her bed. 

With a sigh, she says, “Bobby, a lot of things are going to change.”

A muffled snort. “No, really?”

“Promise you’re going to stay with me, no matter what. I don’t want to be alone in this.” Ever.

There isn’t any hesitation. “I promise, H.”

Then there’s the tentative knock on the door and a scared-looking nurse walks in, shattering the moment’s sacredness. 

\------

From what the foreign doctors (who won’t tell her their names) tell her, Hel went into some sort of magical-hypothermia-induced coma for a day and a half with no lasting effects, which in no way should have been possible. 

At least, that was the less technical version. Bobby said all the extra words they had added was just fluff to cover up the fact that they didn’t know what was going on. She silently agreed with him. 

But that didn’t matter, really. 

Hela didn’t like hospitals, so as soon as she was out it was a relief. But that was all back ground noise to her; what really mattered was the unfinished conversation she’d been having with Loki. 

Which was now top priority more than ever because she was hearing things. 

All. The. Time. 

Whispers could be heard faintly at times, and like they were full volume conversations at other times. 

It made her paranoid, the constant chatter, and already her eye had started twitching from the stress. Flashes of another life showed a small blank room, a small square window, a dreary gray and white snow-covered field (hundreds, hundreds of grays, blues), and the constricting tightening on her chest that made her hug her arms to her chest. Muscle memory, she thought with a small smile. 

Now, leaving her hospital room with Bobby at her side, she sighs. She’s not sure what to do, and Loki hadn’t helped much. 

There’s SHIELD guards still leading them (still armed) around. They hadn’t said where they were being lead, just that she was all cleared and to get ready to go. 

She hoped it was back to Loki. 

(But she really doubted that.)

Bobby’s walking so close to her that his bandaged hands are brushing hers. “Where are we going?” 

Always willing to speak up.

No answer. 

Hel’s mouth twitches. She knows that’s only further incentive for him to bug them.

Her best friend leans over and whispers loudly, “Tough crowd.”

“No talking,” one of them says flatly. 

Bobby shuts up for about ten seconds before saying, “Are we there yet?”

One of the guards behind them sighs and Hel smiles a little. 

\------

The door slams behind them and Bobby is grinning like an idiot. “I think they liked me.”

She can’t help but fully smile now, ducking her head to hide stare at the ground. “Whatever, idiot.”

He doesn’t reply, and it’s that combined with his sudden stillness that makes her look up. He’s not smiling anymore. 

She turns, and she suddenly doesn’t feel too much like smiling either. 

\------

Six Avengers and one Director staring at you was intimidating. Hel already didn’t like being examined. Now she was being picked apart by seven adults. 

The teen shuddered in her chair. 

Bobby was quiet next to her at their end of the rectangular table, sitting back and slouching down. His bad posture made her lean forward in her own seat. 

The Avengers all had different positions but the same blank, hard look. By now Hel just assumed it was normal for the guy with the eye patch.

At the very end of the table across from them, the Director suddenly leaned forward. “Alright, Hel, I’m just going to cut to the chase: what did Loki do to you when you spoke with him?”

She frowns. Wonder what they’d do if she pleaded the fifth. 

“Sir,” Hawkeye starts, but he’s cut off with a look. 

“We’re waiting, Miss Hel.”

Her hands come together on the table. She’s suddenly a little irritated, and just what she’s been through the past who-knows-how-many hours is enough to make her feel entitled to take it out on SHIELD. She’d came expecting help, not handcuffs and a cell. “I’m not entirely sure I want to tell you.”

Everyone in the room shifts subtly, and Bobby whispers, “Hel-“

“Not unless I get some answers, too.”

The Director leans forward, placing clasped hands on the table. “I don’t think you understand the severity of the situation. You are not in a position to be demanding answers.”

“Because I’m Loki’s daughter, right?” Hel says flatly.

From the corner of her eye, Bobby sits up bolt right staring at her incredulously. “Um, what-?”

“Her eyes,” Black Widow suddenly says, “Check her eyes.” 

Hela turns to give the red-haired woman she’d only seen on the news an offended look. “My eyes?”

Disregarding her question at all the agent Hawkeye turns to Director, his face devoid of anything. “We need to be absolutely sure she’s not under Loki’s control, sir.”

“What do you think I’m doing, Agent Barton?” Was the curt reply. 

Black Widow broke in, saying, “The only way to be sure is her eyes. They’ll be blue.”

“My eyes are already blue-“ Hel snaps. 

“A different type of blue,” the female agent finishes coldly, turning to meet the teen’s gaze. 

The rest of the occupants of the room follow her example, turning to stare at Hel with mixed expressions of wariness, suspicion, and guardedness. 

But it wasn’t the multiple pairs of eyes suddenly scrutinizing her that made her suddenly feel small and empty. 

It was the fact that Bobby of all people was participating in that unbearable gaze. That struck her worse than any physical blow. 

Her hands come to rest flat on the table to keep them from trembling, and with a startling realization she felt how angry she was. 

This- This fear of something that she was not was getting old. It was poisoning her only friend against her. She was tired of people simultaneously not believing her and yet painting her out to be something wicked and dark. 

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes. “Fine. Check my damn eyes. If that will make you believe, do it.”

\------

Things…did not go well after that. 

Not because of either party not cooperating, but because they simply did. Not. Listen to her.

She answered all their reasonable questions with reasonable with reasonable answers. They answered what they claimed was within their limits of her questions with half-decent answers. 

But as soon as she had ceased her questioning they had started talking amongst themselves, completely forgetting the teenagers in the room. 

She leaned back in her chair, surveying the scene with a grudging acceptance that came with years of being brushed off. The disturbing attention of every adult in the room now gone, it allowed things to rise to the forefront of her mind, disturbing things. 

Such as, oh, her best friend staring at her like she was a freak.

That soft rustling in the corner of her mind grew a little louder and she released an unsteady breath. It was…annoying. 

Hel wanted to say something to Bobby, but she didn’t know what. Maybe it was just that she was too angry to actually willingly turn and start a conversation. Okay, so yeah, she felt a little betrayed. 

But she was pretty sure she was entitled-

“Hel?”

The teen visibly flinched, the familiar voice breaking into her thoughts with as much grace as a train wreck. Not even turning, she replied shortly, “What?”

“Are you okay?”

She sighed, because that was so typical Bobby that it hurt and was a safe zone that she wanted to run towards all at once. “No.”

“Oh,” he said flatly. “Um… Would you believe me if I said it was going to be alright?”

Hela blinked and turned to look at him. Her best friend looked tired and worn down, a look that distinctly did not go with Bobby. He clumsily brushed a bandaged hand through his hair and that sent a pang of guilt through her. 

Why was she mad at him? He had been right along through this mess with her. Hel would probably be freaked out if it was the other way around. He didn’t deserve her anger. 

She pushed away her anger and smiled a little. “No, I wouldn’t believe you, but thanks anyways.”

He snorted, mouth quirking up a little. “Thought that counts, huh?”

\------

The adults didn’t talk much longer after that, seemingly having come to a decision while Hel was distracted. They didn’t tell them anything, other than that Hel and Bobby would be staying in an actual room now. 

Which was where she was now. 

It was a dull, lifeless standard room that wasn’t any bigger than her bedroom at her foster parents home. Bobby was next door. They weren’t allowed to visit each other; the teen knew because she’d already tried and was stopped by distrustful SHIELD agents with really, really big guns. She had a feeling that there was a security camera somewhere in the room, part of the reason she didn’t change into the outfit an agent had given her until she was in the bathroom. 

As dull and bland as the room was, Hela found herself practically falling in the bed as soon as she had dressed into something she hadn’t been wearing for days. Despite sleeping for who-knew-how-long in that hospital bed, she was bone tired mentally and physically. Her head hurt and the whispers were so low they were almost nonexistent, and they lulled her to sleep. 

\------

She was disappointed almost to wake up in the cold halls of Helheim. 

Sitting up right in her throne, she blinked once, twice, then three times to tell if she was imagining things. 

The hall of Elivdnir was empty. Not a soul in sight. 

“Hela.”

Well, almost. 

Sitting on the bottom step of throne was Loki, looking tired and worn. 

With a healthy dose of caution, she crept down to the bottom step and sat a considerable distance from the man who said he was her father. Even sitting farther away than necessary allowed her to see just how exhausted the god was. 

“Are you afraid of me?” he asked wearily, as if not expecting a good answer. 

“I don’t know,” she answered truthfully. “When you mind-whammied me it screwed with my head.”

“I…am truly sorry for that.”

“How do I know you’re not lying to me?” And she wasn’t just talking about him being apologetic for screwing with her mind.

A shadow of a smile crossed his face. “My dear daughter, I will never lie to you. And as the God of Lies and master of word-weaving, that means something.”

She’s not quite sure why, but she believed him.

“What’s gonna happen now?”

He didn’t presume to not know what she was talking about. “They are taking me back to Asgard late tomorrow.”

“What? So soon?”

He smiled bitterly. “Odin is probably worried that I will escape human confines again. And as I said before, I have punishment to serve out in both realms. The sooner I finish my sentence on the Asgard, the quicker I can return to be punished here.”

Hel’s fingers twist in her dress. She can't remember feeling so helpless and voiceless. 

“...I…I can’t just let this happen.”

“Neither can I,” he says. “Despite Odin’s belief in the safeguards on the prison on Asgard, they are not as foolproof as he would like to believe. It will not be long before I am back on Midgard.”

She glares at him. “No. No. No escaping, got it? Escaping will just prove their point, that you’re bad, and you’re not. If we’re going to do this, we’re doing this the right way.”

Loki laughs, an honest and open thing that echoes through the empty halls of Elivdnir. 

The teen stares at him, not sure if she should feel downright offended or worried by the sudden laughing. 

The trickster smiles at the starry ceiling, which had been clear of clouds ever since Loki had attacked Earth. “You’re optimism is refreshing, daughter. It has been a long while since I have met someone with your outlook.”

Yeah, Hel is offended. “Okay, screw you,” she says. “If there’s one thing I’m not, it’s an optimist, but you and your pessimistic qualities make me look like it. I’m just trying to help you. Here you are laughing at me.”

Loki is still smiling a little, and she would be lying to herself if she said she completely regretted that she was the reason that he was at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT CHAPTER: Shit definitely happens. Hel gets lost. There’s a godly family reunion. All on Asgard. Loki’s probably the only one not surprised. Also, I’m introducing a minor character from Norse legend that I’m pretty sure isn’t mentioned in the comics. So. That’ll be fun. 
> 
> Edit: I just really quick looked it up, and I was wrong; the minor character I wanted to introduce WAS in the comics, but its was a VERY long time ago, and it's like a completely different person than what I'm seeing. So I'm gonna go ahead with it...


	6. One must create one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooooookay.... This would've been up a week ago, if I had not ultimately screwed myself over by sticking the 90% completed chapter into HTML format on AO3 and tried to finish writing it in the format box. 
> 
> Long story short: ALL the formatting was taken out. Paragraph spacing, even breaking. Italics... :/ It was NOT fun. Especially after I messed it up worse. But! After struggling valiantly for two days, I took a break this week because I got a terrible migraine, then rebooted it all again tonight and resolved to straighten it out. Which took forever, but hey, I'm able to post! (Even if it is at 3 AM, my time.)
> 
> I just really didn't want to have you guys to read half the chapter in scrunched up text in one ginormous paragraph. It was hard for me to look at, so...
> 
> Anyway. Here's a SUPER long chapter. It's only this long because I absolutely could not stop at an earlier point than where I did. (This train needs to get rolling, and it's starting to.) Yes, I would've liked to have gone further, but ah oh well. I'm just glad I actually posted a chapter.

Chapter 5: _"When one has not had a good father, one must create one."_ ~ Friedrich Nietzsche 

When Loki tells her goodnight, it’s like he’s saying goodbye.

She hates that, even if he assures that he will find a way out. …Which she distinctly remembers telling him not to do.

Hela wakes up to a dark, cold, and unfamiliar room. She panics for a moment before she remembers that she’s in SHIELD confinement. That thought isn’t too comforting either.

A quick glance at the digital clock on the wall shows that its just after seven, but that’s good. She wants to do something before they steal away her father again.

\------

It takes 20 minutes of badgering and arguing with a guard outside her door before the guard finally, finally radios to someone else to see where Tony Stark is. It’s another fifteen minutes before they actually get the location and go ahead to come.

Turns out Mr. Stark is in one of the labs on the lower floors of Stark Tower. More guards are assigned to her to escort her up there, and it has to be the most awkward elevator ride of Hela’s life. She breathes again when the doors open and practically dives out of the confining space.

The inventor is bent over what looks like the chest piece on his Ironman suit at one of the many work tables around the room. The rest of the suit isn’t far away.

Hel’s mouth opens and closes, trying to bring back the convincing argument speech she had planned out earlier. It doesn’t rise up as easily as it had when she was alone.

Then Tony Stark turns and looks at her over his shoulder. He has a grease smear on his forehead. “Hey, kid. Little early for you to be up, isn’t it?” Without waiting for a reply he says to the guards behind her, “It’s alright, guys. I think I can take it from here.”

They hesitate and Mr. Stark rolls his eyes. “I’m surrounded by my own technology – very lethal technology I might add – and you think I can’t handle a teenager. Gee, that makes me feel so good about SHIELD’s faith in me.”

The guards leave after that.

As the elevator is closing on them, the genius snorts and turns back to the Ironman chest piece. “So, kid. You had something to say?”

Hel opens her mouth to say something (she’s not really sure what) but he interrupts before she even starts. “No, wait. Let me guess: you’re gonna confess to conspiring with your dad for world domination?”

She closes her mouth with a frown, unsure how to reply.

Mr. Stark turns and looks at her briefly before turning back around. “Yeah I didn’t think so.”

The teen blinks before taking a deep breath and saying, “I want to know what you’re going to do with Loki.”

He doesn’t reply for a minute and she wonders if maybe this was the wrong idea. Then, “What, no pretty please?”

She scowls a little at his turned head. “Don’t you think I’m entitled to know what you’re doing with my own father?”

At that he swings around on his stool, putting down what looked like a modified screw driver on the table. “When you’re father is Loki and you busted the windows out in the lobby of my tower? Not really, no.”

Hel feels her small hope plummet to feet. A small fire lights in her and anger begins to spread through her as the whispering noise at the corner of her mind gets louder.

“But,” he says, “you did seem to stop Loki from killing me. I’m not sure if that little stunt was just to make you look good until you could stab us all in the back, maybe quite literally, or if you really were trying to help, but either way I’m grateful.”

She lets out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding in and the whispers die down. “Okay. You’re welcome, I think.”

He shrugs like it was nothing. “Now, as for what’s going to happen to Loki, Thor’s going to take him back to Asgard for a sentencing later today. After that he’s going to be locked up for a very, very long time.”

Just like Loki told me they would, Hel thinks. She bites her lip. “Well, is there any way… Would it be possible, I mean, for me to… Um… Maybe go with them?”

The inventor just stares at her for a few moments. Then he laughs.

Hela really wishes people would stop laughing at her.

It takes him awhile to get control of his laughter and say, “You’re not serious, are you?”

She openly scowls at him. “No, I just got up at seven in the morning to come give you a good laugh and listen to you tell me how untrustworthy my father is and therefore his children, too. But of course, continue laughing. I’m only trying to find some freaking answers that could change my life forever.”

He sobers at that. “Okay, I get it. I see how…serious you are about this.”

I highly doubt that, she thinks to herself.

“But if you think there’s any way that you’d be allowed to travel with them to Asgard, you’re crazy. It’s hard enough to get Thor and Loki sent there by themselves.”

Hel sighs and sits on one of the few uncluttered work benches. “Care to explain?”

“There’s the protocols and regulations that that have to be cleared before they can beam up there. We have to section off the area from civilians. And definitely no civvies allowed to take a stroll on Asgard when we do take a visit. Also…”

The teen rolled her eyes, waiting for it.

“…You’re Loki’s daughter.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t that make me not civilian?”

Tony Stark shrugged. “SHIELD is weird on stuff like this. Actually, there’s never been something like this, so they’re making up rules as they go. Point is, there’s no way you’re getting up to Asgard, kid. Sorry, but that’s the truth.”

Hela wants to get angry at him because she’s frustrated, but she knows he’s only telling the truth. She sighs again, shoulders slumping.

“But.”

Her eyes flick to the inventor again.

“…If you want to be there when they do leave, I’m sure it can be arranged.”

“How?”

“SHIELD is taking you and your boyfriend-“

“He’s not my boyfriend!”

“-back to your homes tomorrow, because according to what your foster parents said and his parents said, you were camping.”

“So…,” Hel starts, leaning back and attempting to look innocent, “you found out about that?”

He gives her a look. “Kid, it’s SHIELD. They know everything. Or, at least they think they do.”

She smiles sheepishly.

“Anyway, as I was saying, your parents aren’t going to let us hold you here without charge or reasonable cause. So later today you’re both being driven back. And you’re not getting off scotch free, either. There are going to be SHIELD agents watching your every move. But you won’t be able to see them. You sneeze the wrong way, they swoop in with a fancy pair of cuffs designed for certain Asgardians.”

Hel could already feel a case of scopophobia developing.

“But before all that,” the genius went on, “it could possibly be arranged so that you could stop by and see him off when you head back to your home.”

“Really?”

“Don’t get your hopes up. I probably won’t be able to tell you if Fury gives the go-ahead on this little plan, so the only way you’ll know is when and if it happens.”

Hel thought about it, taking time to weigh her options. Something occurred to her and she smiled slowly. “Thank you, Mr. Stark.”

He snorted. “Don’t thank me yet. Oh, and don’t call me ‘Mr. Stark’. Mr. Stark was my father. Just call me Tony.”

“Okay… Tony.” It felt weird calling an adult by their first name, even though she did the same to all her foster parents.

Tony turned back to his work, picking the odd-looking screwdriver up again. “Okay, kid, now scram. I want to fix this chest piece that your uncle broke before we beam Loki back to the mothership.”

She stood up with a small smile and walked back to the elevator. Just as she began to press the button, the inventor spoke up again.

“Just curious: why are you doing all this?”

Hela stops, half-turning back to him. He was still bent over his work. “What?”

“I’m just saying… You seem pretty determined to fight for a guy who you met once, over a year ago. A guy who nearly took over the world and destroyed Manhattan, I might add.”  
She doesn’t know how to reply, because she doesn’t know that much either. She wanted answers, yeah, but it was more than that. Finally she says, “He’s not just any ‘guy’, though. He’s my dad. Wouldn’t you do the same?”

When Tony doesn’t answer after a few moments, Hel goes ahead and presses the down button on the elevator.

\------

When the SHIELD agent driving the sedan carrying her and Bobby back to their boring lives takes a detour and stops at Central Park, Hel knows that Tony Stark came through for her.

She didn’t get the chance to tell Bobby what she had asked of the billionaire because she was afraid the SHIELD agents that escorted them everywhere would hear and it’d be, ‘Well there goes that plan’. So her best friend was pretty confused when they stopped and Tony personally came and opened her door for her.

After seeing his face as she shut the door, Hela regretted not telling Bobby. If this worked out, then… Well. She wouldn’t get to see him for a while.

The other Avengers minus Thor were already there, cautious and alert. Judging by their expressions, they weren’t surprised to see her or very happy about it either.

Before she could begin to feel uncomfortable with the amount of tension in the air, a van pulled up with the SHIELD logo on it. Hel held her breath for a moment as SHIELD agents armed to the teeth filed out, followed by Loki with Thor at his shoulder. Her father had the same high-tech handcuffs on, but now he was also wearing a muzzle. A muzzle.

“Really,” she said to no one in particular. “A muzzle?”

Everyone ignored her.

Loki’s green eyes met her own. He only seemed half-surprised, quirking an eyebrow at her. She smiled back weakly.

There was quiet talk among the SHIELD agents as they moved into position and one of them pulled out an odd glass cylinder looking thing with gold handles at the end from the van. But what they pulled out next is what really got her attention.

They pulled out a metal briefcase, flipping the lid open.

Inside was a glowing blue cube and something...weird happens to her when she sees it.

The unexplainable pull she feels when she sees it nearly makes her take a step forward. Her hand twitches as if to reach out to it. The golden bracelet on her wrist feels so cold.  
Hel wants- No, needs to touch it. Go to it.

The trance she’s in breaks when she feels a heavy gaze on her. Blue eyes tear away to meet emerald ones. Loki’s face is blank, or as blank as he can be with a muzzle over his mouth.

She swallows heavily and focuses on the events unfolding.

In her distraction, the agents have put the glowing cube in the cylinder thing and handed it to Thor. Her…uncle (that’s going to take a while to get used to) is standing in the middle of a circle pattern on the bricks with Loki next to him. Sparing one last glance at his teammates and herself, the Thunder god turns and holds one of the golden handles out to Loki while holding the other.

Loki gives her a last look, then reaches up to grasp the handle.

In the second it takes her father to grab it, Hel thinks, _Now or never_ , and lurches forward with a speed she didn’t know she had, sprinting full on across the mere eight or nine feet between her and the gods.

Time slows down in that four seconds.

There’s shouting, the sound of what is probably a gun (holy crap they’re shooting, shooting at her), and a whistling sound as a bullet grazes her ear and another one brushes the sleeve of her shirt so close she can feel the bullet. There’s panic building inside her, but that’s not what she’s focused on.

Thor has twisted his handle, eyes landing on her too late. His mouth opens as he probably tells her to stop, but there’s already blue energy crackling around them and Hel’s only a foot away.

Her hand brushes the thunderer’s arm that’s holding the cylinder handle and she grabs on with strength she didn’t know she had.

It occurs to her then that this could be a bad idea, and that _holy shit she could die._

Just as they’re jerked upwards in a flash of blue light.

\------

It’s possibly the worst thing she’s ever experienced. In other words, the worst roller coaster ride ever.

She wants to shut her eyes, but she can’t. The force at which they’re traveling is tearing at her skin, particles brushing over her cheeks like sand. Her neck feels like its breaking. Instead of her lungs being in her throat, Hel’s pretty sure all internal organs got left back at Central Park.

Her hand starts to slip off Thor’s wrist and she feels a moment of blind terror.

Then a strong, rough hand closes over her own, anchoring her.

If Hela had any breath left in her lungs, she would have breathed a sigh of relief. As it was, she was suffocating.

Everything was blue, so blue.

Just when the teen thought her skin was being pulled from her flesh, there’s an abrupt change in motion. Instead of being pulled up now, they’re being dropped.

And then everything grinds into a halt.

They slam down on a golden floor, Hel landing face first. Her hand is finally torn from Thor’s and it falls beside her, the muscles aching from strain. Thankfully, she doesn’t bash her head against the ground, but it knocks any breath she had gained as they entered the atmosphere out of her again.

She lays on her stomach, dazed and being blinded by rainbow lights far of in the distance.

Then someone is jerking her upright – _Oww_ , did they not see she was in shock and would like to just lay there for a minute? – and grasping her shoulders, freaking shaking her.

 _What the hell_ , she thinks, _stop freaking rattling what’s left of my brain-_

The worried and angry light blue eyes of Thor fill her vision. He’s talking, but Hel’s not really hearing it.

She would like to just go limp and let Thor hold her up on her feet for a while, but a nauseous feeling rises up in her throat and stomach. Hel pushes him away just in time to throw up whatever she’d eaten that day, which thankfully hadn’t been much due to nerves.

When there’s nothing left in her stomach, she rolls over and falls back on her elbows. Her uncle puts a hand on her forehead and brushes hair out of her face, but he’s pushed away by Loki.

Oh look, the teen thinks. Loki managed to take off his muzzle. Why is she not surprised.

Her father looks angry, too.

The trickster grabs her shoulder, thankfully not shaking her. “-stupid girl, why would you do that, you could have been killed-“

Well, he either cared or she just made the ride really bumpy by jumping along and he was pissed about that. Hel manages to rasp, “My bad,” before promptly passing out.

\------

She’s dreaming again.

Then again, this felt different that the dream she’d had. Everything is sharper. Slow, but sharp.

There’s a large, heavy hand on the back of her neck and something cold and sharp pressing at her throat. Behind her there’s someone, a very solid, strong someone holding her close.

Standing not far away in front of her is Loki. He looks lost, but there’s something else, something that leaves her feeling cold.

He’s scared.

The person behind her is talking, but she can’t make them out.

Still staring at her, Loki pauses for a long, drawn out moment. She meets his eyes.

After another few long moments, her father shakes his head slowly and says something.

Hel can’t hear Loki, but even she could lip read the one word he says.

_No._

There’s a breathless moment where everything stands still. Then the hand on the back of her neck puts her in a choke hold as something wicked and sharp is raised above her head and plunged down, down into-

Hela chokes in her nightmare, chokes as she feels the grinding of a foreign object making its way between the bones of her ribcage, a sickeningly warm burst of pain making her speechless.

Then her attacker _twists_ and, oh, God, it hurts so much-

Then the foreign object is gone, as is the person holding her up, and Hel falls to her knees and hands as a burning warmth begins to cover her front. Finding it hard to draw breath, she presses a hand to the warmth, trying to make it _stop_ spreading, stop _burning_. But she has to bring her hand away, because she’s falling on her side now and-

The last thing she sees is her palm and fingers covered in bright red blood.

\------

With a strangled gasp, the teen sits up straight in bed.

She’s having a hard time breathing and sweating, legs tangled in silk bronze sheets. Immediately she kicks them off and draws her legs up to her to wrap her arms around them as she tries to hold herself together, tries to get the feeling of her blood spilling out of her to stop.

Hel’s trembling. That was no dream. That was a nightmare. Of her own death.

The girl draws in another shaky breath. Her thoughts are scrambled, flashes of the nightmare replaying in her head. She squeezes her eyes shut.

Then there’s a knock.

Hela flinches, head snapping around to the door.

That’s when she realizes where she is.

The room is bathed in golden hues by the dusk outside. There’s three huge open windows that have no glass at all, nearly taking up a complete wall. She could stand in them if she wanted and not be able to reach the arched tops of either of them. On the opposite wall there is a literal gold desk that looks like its from the future with a massive matching wardrobe next to it. Beside the bed is a small gold nightstand with a basin on it. Opposite of the bed is a double set of (surprise, surprise) golden doors with intricate designs.

Oh, and another thing.

Her clothes are missing.

Hel squeaks as she notices the lack of shorts or shirt, leaving her in her underwear. A mantra of ‘WTF’ is repeating in her head.

Another knock at the door.

Her head snaps up again to stare at the door with a deer-in-headlights look.

“Hela? Are you well?”

Oh God. It’s _Thor_.

Hel hisses, “Shit!” before scooting down in the bronze sheets up to her chin and yelling, “Um, I’m fine!”

Her voice only cracks a little.

The thunderer’s deep voice carries, even through the door. “May I come in?”

She panics. What to say, what to say-

“Um, I’m not really sure-“

“Is something wrong?”

Hela stares at the door, feeling a blush rising in her cheeks. “Thor… My clothes are missing.”

There’s a long pause, then booming laughter.

 _Why_ , she asks herself, _does everyone seem to be laughing at me._

Thor speaks again, amusement clear in his voice. “Little niece, there are clothes the wardrobe. The maidservants took yours to be washed.”

“…Okay,” the teen says meekly, feeling very exposed as she slips out of the bed to pad to the wardrobe quickly. “Give me a second.”

“Do you need a maidservant to help you dress?”

Her hand halts on the wardrobe handle. “What? No! No no no, I’m good!”

She can hear the smirk in Thor’s voice. “Very well.”

Biting her lip, she pulls open the wardrobe doors.

And stops dead.

It’s full of full-length dresses and cloaks. Or... What _look_ like dresses... It's hard to tell because while there's an underlying dress design, the tops of the so-called dresses seem to be tunics or wraps of a sort made of curtains.

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

Most of them are ranging in hues of blue, but there’s a few green, gray, and black ones, too. There must be twenty-something in it.

She randomly pulls out a navy blue one, inspecting it. It has long flowing sleeves and a scooping neckline, with a brown leather string lacing up the front. A delicate silver design was sewn along the ends of the sleeves and the bodice and neckline. The curtain/tunic/wrap that was supposed to go with it matches the navy blue material and is thankfully a separate piece.

Her eyebrows shot up. Was there something you were supposed to wear under it? And how did you even get it on?

She turned back to the wardrobe, throwing the dress and wrap on the bed. There were drawers in the bottom. Hel opened one and found what she at first thought was very small, white dresses made of both silk and cotton. Pulling one out, she realized that they were under slips.

She quickly slipped one on, grateful for the cover. It reached her knees and had small spaghetti straps. With another look back at the navy blue dress, the teen girl called out to her uncle. “I might need help getting these dresses on after all.”

At first she didn’t think Thor heard, but after a few moments two women rushed in the room, heads bowed.

One immediately began untying the leather string that closed the front, while the other came up behind Hel. “My lady,” the woman asked in a quiet voice, “how would you like your hair done?”

“Um, braided, I guess?”

The woman went to the nightstand and pulled out a brush while the other one brought the dress to Hel. She gathered the dress up and held it over Hela’s head. “Please put your arms up, my lady.”

The teen noticed with a frown that the woman’s hands were shaking, but did as she said anyways. The maidservant slipped it over her head and she wiggled her arms in the sleeves. It went on easier than Hel thought it would. The gown fell over the under slip and as the maidservant began lacing the leather string up tightly again the other woman began combing Hel’s hair.

The woman tying up the leather strings of her dress finished before the woman doing her hair, and instead of stepping back like Hel thought she would, the woman went to a different drawer than the one she had opened earlier. The drawer had a box in it, and in the box were two ornate chest pieces covered in light gold and bronze designs. The woman pulled one out and the second piece that lay under it.

Bringing them to Hel, she stood by her side and placed one up against her back and the other directly over Hel’s chest. Hel watched with no small amount of fascination as the two plates instantly connected with each other like magnets and melded to her chest for an exact fit, stopping just at her hips.

In a matter of minutes, she had the dress on and her hair was braided. The two women stepped back and checked their work. Almost as an afterthought, The teen almost did (feeling so strange about it the whole time), but then she remembered something. “What about shoes?”

One of the women went to the wardrobe again and opened another drawer. In it were shoes ranging from flat slippers to high-heeled boots. “What would you prefer, Miss Hela?”

That sounded…so weird.

“Uh… Something comfortable?”

The maidservant pulls out a pair of black slippers and Hel has to sit so she can put them on. The slippers are a lot like leather moccasins and are lined with a soft fur. She sighs at the comfort. “Thanks.”

No response. Not even eye contact.

“Um… You can go, I guess?”

Both the women flee the room like their lives depend on it.

The entire confrontation sets a permanent frown on the teen’s face as Thor walks in after the maidservants leave. Thor’s expression is an odd mixture of happiness and amusement combined with tones of sternness. She doesn’t read too much into it as the god pulls the chair from the desk, flipping it around to sit in it backwards, until he opens his mouth.

“Hela, do you know the severity of your actions?”

Well, she thought, sort of, if you’re talking about taking an unannounced hop across the universe to visit an alien planet. But instead of saying that the teen asked, “By getting dressed?”

The sternness in his expression disappeared for a moment, a small smile spreading across his face. “And dress you did. Considering the day’s later events, you dressed appropriately.”

“Later events?”

Thor went on. “Alas, that is something to be discussed later. What I am talking about would be you coming with us to Asgard.”

“Oh,” Hela said meekly, even though she already knew he had been talking about that to begin with.

Any amusement on his face was gone now. “Had you let go at any time during the Bifrost trip, you would have been left in the gaps of Yggdrasil. Neither myself nor your father could have saved you there.”

Something cold settled in her stomach. “By ‘gaps in Yggdrasil’ do you mean space? Outer space?”

He nodded solemnly. The teen sucked in a shaky breath. This probably hadn’t been one of her best ideas, then. “Well, guess it’s a good thing I didn’t let go, huh?”

“Indeed. While I am glad you are now able to visit Asgard and see your true heritage, I wish you had not taken such a risk.” He paused for a moment. “Had you planned on this? On traveling with us to Asgard?”

Hel thought about it for a moment before answering. “Will I get in trouble if I told you I had planned on this and the reason I asked Mr. Star- Tony was so I could get a chance at coming with you?”

Thor chuckled a little. “No, you shall not bear punishment from me. While the circumstances could have been better, I am indeed happy you are here. Though your father and SHIELD may not be so lax on punishment or lecturing.”

She aimed a weak smile at him. “Thanks, Thor. I think I can handle them.”

He smiled back, seemingly banishing all heavy thoughts of death in outer space. “Now, Hela, how would you like to meet your family?”

Everything slid to a halt and the smile slid off her face.

“Family?” she echoed.

“Yes. Father and Mother are most pleased that you are here.” His smile flickered for a moment but he didn’t go on.

“I feel there’s a ‘but’ attached on to the end of that sentence, Thor.”

“I do not know what you speak of, niece.”

“I think you do, uncle.”

The thunderer hesitated. After a few long moments, he said, “As I was not present at the time that you were…banished, I think this might be something better explained by your father.”

Hela sighed, irritated. “Well, when am I going to see him?”

“Soon. After you have met your grandparents.”

She rubbed her eyes tiredly. “Loki’s in Asgard’s prison, isn’t he.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” the god answered grudgingly, “due to his crimes. There are not…many people on Asgard who would agree with my brother being out of restraints.”

 _Great_ , Hel thought. _More people who are gonna hate me on sight._ She stood up, smoothing out the dress. It felt weird, but somehow right. “Let’s get going, then.”

Despite the confident tone, she was nervous. More than nervous. According to Loki, Odin was the one who banished her and her apparent brothers to Earth. When they were still practically infants. Hel had a hard time imagining someone who would go behind their own sons’ back and take his kids as a grandfatherly figure. Actually, it was hard to imagine him as any kind of father figure at all. The pictures of Odin on Wikipedia weren’t exactly parent-ly looking.

As they walked out of the room and past the maidservants standing sentry at the door, she glanced at Thor. Thinking about it, so far none of the Norse figures she’d met had looked like the pictures she’d seen.

Hel had to hurry to keep up with the Thunder god’s long stride. She barely had time to take in her surroundings. Everything was very…metallic, almost. The hues of gold and bronze among other metals made the atmosphere seem like there’s a soft, comforting air.

The farther they get from her room, the more people start appearing. They were all dressed like they were either ready for battle or from the Enlightenment or Renaissance period. Well, not exactly like the Enlightenment or Renaissance period, but its what they make the teen think of.

Any talk ceases as she and Thor get close. The people watch with wide, cautious eyes but bow as they pass, only to resume talking in hushed tones after they pass. More than once, someone makes an odd hand gesture at Hela when they see her. After the fourth time her uncle slows a bit to put his arm around her shoulders, almost like a statement. Hel’s too focused on how similar the gesture seemed like the warding-evil sign (called the Horns or Corna gesture; she’d researched it) that she’d had directed at her so many times on Earth.

A few tense minutes later they come upon a set of golden doors guarded by two of the oddest dressed men she had ever seen, who opened the doors after a second glance at Hel.

She’s not quite sure what to expect because all the foster parents she ever had on Earth had never really tried to make sure she knew their parents, the only real grandparent figures she would’ve had. Even so, when the doors open up and she’s suddenly enveloped in the strong embrace of a woman who smells likes cinnamon and something she can’t identify, Hel is pretty sure that the normal thing to do would not be just stand there stiffer than a tree, while simultaneously trying to suddenly become a tree.

But that’s exactly what she does. (Not the ‘becoming a tree’ part, but you know.)

“Oh, Hela, you’re all grown-“

For Hel, this brings up the question of whether or not her mystery attacker can see the centuries of age on her and not just the fifteen years that the current Hel has lived through, if what Loki explained to her earlier had any truth to it. …Which really wasn’t relevant, but when she has no idea what to do she falls back on mindless head-ramble.

“Hela,” she hears Thor say, “this is my mother and your grandmother, Frigga.”

Hel tries to unfreeze her limbs and thoughts. It works, somewhat. Barely above a whisper, she says, “Nice to meet you.”

Finally Frigga – her grandmother – pulls back and looks her in the face. Frigga is a gentle-faced woman with strong, kind, blue eyes just like Thor. As far as what Hela had in mind for a grandmother, she does not have the telltale wrinkles of age or grayed hair, but instead just the opposite, her long mouse brown hair in a loose braid and her face smooth except for laughter lines. She smiled genuinely, but her expression is pinched, almost in worry.

The entire onslaught of kindness throws Hel for a loop and makes her head spin. She wishes (maybe a little rudely) that her newfound grandmother would give her some space.

“Frigga, give the girl some space.”

The woman backed up, and Hela’s gratefulness lasted for a full two seconds before she realized just who spoke.

The most imposing-looking man she had ever set eyes upon stared at her with a solemn one-eyed stare. Director of Shield and his pirate patch had nothing on this guy’s gold-freaking-plate eye patch. Seriously, was everything on Asgard made of a precious metal?

The man took a few steps closer to her, scrutinizing in a non-judgmental way as his golden staff hit the floor with each step just like a judge’s gavel. Something crawled up Hel’s throat as she suddenly realized exactly who this was, what this meant. Thor came to stand beside her again, and she could hear the smile in the thunderer’s voice as he said, “Hela, the Allfather and – more importantly – your grandfather, Odin.”

The thing in her throat squeezed tight. Her head felt too light, and she really, really needed to get away, because this wasn’t right, this man was what put her through every life she’d every lived through, he had made her forget everything, made her powerless, made her suffer over and over and over again in every life-

Suddenly the world tilted sideways, but strong arms held Hel before she could collapse like she wanted to. Unbidden, one of questions on her long list of Questions To Be Answered rose up and she blurted, “Why?”

Odin, his aged face an odd combination of stoic and sorrowful, just looked down at her in silence.

She stared back, desperate to know. _Why, why, why._

The deep, rumbling voice of Thor suddenly broke into her thoughts like far off thunder. “Niece, perhaps now is not the time for questions that shall take much too long for explanation. You need to eat.”

Food. Hel jumped onto that train of thought without looking back. Food sounded really good. “Yeah. Okay.”

Her uncle helped her up and all the while she avoided Odin’s eyes. It was both simultaneously embarrassing and frustrating to look at him.

Scary, too, but she was hard pressed to admit that.

\------

When Hel and Thor get to the dining hall (which is grand, beautiful, open to the elements, and…gold), dinner is already in full swing. Maybe it’s lunch. She can’t really tell with the weird sky.

There’s a long polished wooden table that is at least 50 yards long full of food, with Asgardians lining each side of it. And they’re all happily munching down on delicious smelling food. Some of them are elegantly dressed, others are dressed in warrior attire like Thor. She gets light-headed looking at all the food. How long had it been since she ate?

When they walk in, Thor enters first and she trails behind him. At the Thunder God’s appearance there are many rambunctious cheers and hoots.

Then Hela steps out from behind Thor.

Everything goes dead silent.

It takes a full five seconds before someone screams something, and several people stand up with weapons out and ready to inflict bodily harm. Food – perfectly good food – is thrown at her, and Thor has her stuffed outside the dining hall doors and them shut behind her just as the food smacks against the door. The crowd inside turns into a full riot of protesting and banging.

She backs away from the doors as the noise inside increases in volume, meaning that the haters could only be getting closer to the doors, closer to mauling her. Running for the hills would be the smart thing, because surely Thor can’t hold off all those dozens of people from such a big entrance-

A rumble of thunder broke and tumbled across the sky; a lightning strike sounded and Hel could see the light of it under the door. There’s silence again behind the door before her uncle starts shouting very, very angrily, and she can’t understand it but whatever it is it works because two minutes later he opens the door with a big smile.

Once inside, Hela realizes the table is actually many tables put together to make one long one. She realizes this because two of them have been turned over.

Picking her way among wasted food, the teen keeps her head down and lets the thunderer guide her to the very end of the table where she sits on the edge of the bench and he sits on her only free side. There’s silence and not a single person is sitting at the table now, all of them watching from the farthest sides of the room with hostile looks. Hel…suddenly isn’t so hungry.

Thor pays no mind to the watchers, snatching a plate and unceremoniously dumping the food already on it onto another already-in-use plate. Cups and bowls get shoved out of Hel’s way and the plate is plunked down in front of her. She nearly crumples under his hand as he brings it down on her shoulder and says enthusiastically, “Eat, niece!”

Her appetite has shriveled and died under the glare of the other Asgardians, but even still she reaches for the food.

About five minutes or so after she and Thor (who was happily munching what looked similar to a turkey leg) had sat down, the wary, tense Asgardians that had had their meal so rudely interrupted finally started to sit back down, one by one and hushed amongst themselves. Suspicious looks were thrown her way, but all the same they resumed their meal.

It was only ten minutes in that a cup full of something strong-smelling was shoved in her hand.

By who, she didn’t know, as she’d had her eyes trained dutifully on her plate as she chewed on some strange fruit that honest-to-God tasted like a fruit roll up. But she suspected that if Thor knew he’d take it from her.

Because Hel wasn’t stupid. She could tell it was ale. An actual alcoholic beverage.

She sniffed it, nose wrinkling at the strong smell, and wondered what it would taste like.

A mischievous feeling stole over her. Honestly, _if_ she got caught for drinking it, she could always claim she didn’t know what it was. And really, with everything else going on, it wasn’t like it was the worst thing that she could get in trouble with. A quick look and nope, Thor was too wrapped up in a story with the person on his other side.

But she noted with a raised eyebrow that some Asgardians sitting in front of her and a little down the table were watching her with rapt attention. She chalked it down to their paranoia of her turning psycho and took a big swig of the ale.

Mistake number one.

\------

Hela was drunk.

With the way she was suddenly too warm and every turn of the head made the room tilt on its axis, she was most definitely drunk. As her drunkenness had progressed, the Asgardians seemed to liven up again, laughing and eagerly passing food around. Thor had been engaged in a battle story for the past five minutes that, had she any idea where or who or what he was talking about, would have been a great distraction from the way the food on her plate seemed to double on its own. Maybe she should just-

Suddenly there was a loud, rambunctious cheer and Hel was pushed off the end of the bench as Thor was suddenly pushed down the bench by the person on the other side of him. It took her a minute to register this though, because suddenly she went from sitting upright to on the floor on her side and more dizzy than ever. Once she did actually register it, and heard the outburst of laughter from the Asgardians at her plight, she was almost certain it had been on purpose.

For a moment she felt a burning cold anger sweep through her and more than ever she wanted to lash out, but it died quickly, leaving her feeling burned out and hollow.

She didn’t belong here. Even amongst her origins she was an outsider.

So Hel picked herself and her dignity off the floor, resting against the table for balance when standing.

Thor asked her something, probably if she was okay, but she just waved him off. After a moment of hesitation the thunderer turned back to his war story, resuming it in full fervor.

Without even thinking about it, Hel slipped away from the table and towards the door, determined to find some solitude.

\------

She wandered the halls of the palace aimlessly, hand on the wall to steady herself. People mysteriously disappeared once she was close, so no one bothered or tried to stop her.

Hela let her feet wander up halls, down stairs. She didn’t think about much of anything other than the interior decorating of the halls; it was a safe if boring subject.

After a while, she found that she had wandered outside past the courtyards and to a big, black tunnel-looking entrance that led down somewhere with two freaky looking guards on each side of the big entrance leading into darkness. With a raised eyebrow, she stumbled closer until they finally registered her presence.

They regarded her with a wary expression. Hel wobbled on her feet for a moment, but managed to put her hands on her hips and look up at them. “I hope whatever’s in there is worth guarding.”

Nothing. They just stared at her.

An idea struck her. “Is it the prison? Is Loki down there?”

They only tensed up more at his name. She sighed. “Guys, I’m _obviously_ drunk. What trouble could I cause?”

Again, nothing. Maybe not the best question to ask.

“Look, I swear to you that I will not cause any trouble or try to release Loki. I’ll even warn you beforehand if the urge to destroy something strikes me.”

They were ignoring her now.

“One of you could come with me and stand a respectable, non-eavesdropping distance away…”

The guard on the left looked considering at that, so Hela went silent and let him think for a few minutes. After a tense waiting, he finally looked down at her and said in a deep voice, “Very well.”

Well, she thought to herself, that was a little anticlimactic.

Soon he was walking down the stairs, torches lighting as he went, and leading her down, down into further darkness.

\------

“Is something wrong?”

Hel stared at the rooms built into the side of each wall, with their clear shield and alien criminals in each of them (who were scrutinizing her in a way that was almost a glare), and thought, _There is no way in hell I’m walking past all of them._

But instead she just scooted closer to the guard and said, “Nope, nothing wrong.”

He hummed and continued into the prison. She stuck to him like glue, but even then the eyes of every criminal on her left her with chills on her arms and shuddering.

After what seemed like forever, they reached a hallway that branched away from everything else. The guard pointed her down it. “All the way down there.” And then took up his position at the end, ramrod straight and attentive.

Without further ado, Hela began stumbling her way down the hall.

\------

Loki did not look pleased or impressed to see her.

“Please tell me you did not make your way through the dungeon all by yourself.”

Ah, he must’ve been thinking about the creepy alien guys straight from Men in Black, too. She huffed a laugh and flopped on the ledge in front of his cell, inches from the shimmering shield. “Please. You really think they’d have let me wander in here, or anywhere at all by myself.”

The leather clad god had moved closer to the shield and was peering at her intensely now. His cell actually had some small pieces of furniture in it, along with a few books. She chalked it down to being a former prince. Hel swung her legs up on the ledge, leaning back on her elbows. Feeling the stare she was under, she said, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

Another moment of intense staring, and then an incredulous, “Are you _drunk_?”

She swung her gaze to his until blue eyes met green and asked, “What if I am?”

“By the Norns, I am going to kill Thor.”

She pointed at him, or in his general direction. “I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say you say that a lot. But hey, this wasn’t Thor’s fault. Somebody else gave it to me. And I shamelessly admit to taking advantage of it.”

Agitated now, Loki threw his arms out as he started stalking back and forth in his cell. “That doesn’t matter! He should have at least been watching out for you! The oaf cannot even get that right.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I can take care of myself.”

He shot a withering look at her. “Well, apparently not, if even without the inhibitions of alcohol you make decisions like the one to _drink_ the alcohol.”

“You realize that doesn’t make sense, right? In order to have the ‘inhibitions of alcohol’ I’d have to drink the alcohol in the first place when I’m sober. It’s like the Chicken or Egg question. You have to have one before the other….”

“How many glasses did you have?”

Two and a half, but like she was going to tell him that. “You'd be happier not knowing."

He made a sound of exasperation and dragged a hand through his hair. “Oh, I am going to _kill_ him.”

Hela didn’t reply to that, just watched him as Loki paced agitatedly back and forth, side to side in his cell, looking like a lion stalking its cage. Without even thinking about it, she said, “You really hate it in there, don’t you.” It wasn’t a question.

He slowed to stop, long enough for him to glance outside down the hall and back to her. In that moment she saw the longing and weariness reemerge for a few moments. “I do. I hate it.”

In a moment of sobriety Hel remember her reason for coming to Asgard and she looked at him with determination. “Well, I promise I’ll fix this. I swear.”

He took the promise with silence, a guarded look on his face. “Do not make promises you cannot keep.” Then something passed over his face, and his expression changed from solemn to angered in a second. “You- You-“

Hel nodded. “Me. I know.”

“You should not even be here! Stupid girl, what were you thinking? What if we’d lost you in the Bifrost, in between worlds? You were not supposed to follow me!”

At this sudden outburst, she sat up, more than a little pissed and somewhat hurt. “Excuse me, I’m sorry if the only reason I came was to save your ass from being locked up forever on an alien planet, because you’re doing _so_ well on figuring out a peaceful solution at paying your dues. Which I might add, there’s a lot of them to be paid.”

Emerald eyes glared at her for a few moments longer before he turned away, face going blank. “I…am sorry. You had worried me. You still _are_ worrying me.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“That may be. But this is a new world for you, Hela, one in which judgment has already been cast upon you for an insipid prophecy that may never come true. I…perhaps did not help matters, but-“

“Wait, do the people here know about Manhattan?”

His silence wasn’t reassuring.

“Loki!”

“No!” he snapped, green eyes flaring. “They do not, unless Odin has suddenly decided to share Midgardian affairs with the entirety of Asgard.”

Hel’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “Then why. Why are they so afraid? Why do they _hate_ us so much?”

Loki said nothing.

She stood suddenly and angrily, almost falling but managing to stand steady and strong. “I swear to God, Loki, if you don’t tell me, or worse, lie, I’ll-“ She couldn’t finish, her hands clenching into fists as a slow burning anger built up inside her. Whispering voices started to creep in but she ignored it.

The god had looked away by now, staring off and looking more weary than ever. Softly, he said, “I will never lie to you, Hela. Never.”

“Then _tell_ me.”

He looked back at her then, almost apologetically. “I do not think I can. If I did so, you might think of me quite differently.”

And yet here I am on a completely different planet trying to fight for your life, Hel thought sourly. But instead she said, “Damnit, Loki, _tell me_.”

His eyes narrowed. “Need I remind you I am your father, Hel. I do not take _orders_ from you.”

In one motion Hela put a foot on the ledge of his cell, leveraging herself up. She was _mad_. No, beyond mad. The whispering voices grew louder, making it hard for her to think. She felt like she was buzzing with anger as she stepped up to the gold shimmering shield of the cell. Leaning as close as she dared, Hel snapped viciously, “You don’t get to call yourself _my father_ until you start acting like one.

She paused at the look on his face but continued on. “Those people out there hate me, Loki, are even _afraid_ of me. And I don’t even know why. At least on Earth I knew people disliked me because I was different. Here, I don’t know if its because I’m your daughter, or if its something _you_ did, or if its because of that silly prophecy saying I’m gonna help do the universe in. But if they’re gonna hate me, curse me, be scared for their _life_ around me, then I want to know why and it better be a damn good reason.”

The trickster was staring at her with a shocked expression, mouth agape and disbelief of enormous proportions written across his face. It was probably the most she had seen him express.

Then something in his expression flickered and he stepped closer, looking at her more intensely than ever. After a moment he shook his head, brow furrowing, and looked away. "Hela..."

A little bit of her anger dissipates then to be replaced by desperation. He looks so tired and weary, she almost regrets saying it all.

Then he sighs and runs a hand through his hair, seeming to come to a conclusion. "A very, very long time ago, a race of creatures from the planet Jotunheim called frost giants waged war on the nine realms, threatening to conquer them all. As protector of the nine realms, Odin engaged in war with them on Jotunheim and Midgard. The war lasted a very long time, but it ended with Asgard's armies laying waste to Jotunheim and Odin striking down Laufey, the king, but not killing him. Laufey is actually how Odin lost his eye."

At this point Hel interrupted, growing impatient. "Okay, but if this happened so long ago, then what-"

"After that final battle," Loki went on quietly, looking past her in an unseeing gaze, "Odin found a baby in one of the temples, presumably left to die because of its small size by frost giant standards. He took the infant back to Asgard where he and Frigga raised it as their own son without telling anyone of his true heritage."

Hel suddenly felt sick because this was leading somewhere bad, and she had a sick feeling that she knew where.

Loki was staring at her, face completely blank.

It suddenly made sense, she realized. Why Thor and Loki looked so different for brothers, why Loki looked nothing like Odin or Frigga, why he would have been so angry-

Feeling very, very sick and shocked, she realized that she wasn't even related to Thor or Odin or Frigga or _any_ Asgardian. Swallowing, Hela came back to herself and looked at weary green eyes. Barely above a whisper, she said, "Oh, Loki."

He gave her a small, bitter smile but continued. "Fast forward many years later, and by way of Thor's stupidity, I find out about my true _heritage_." His expression twisted at the words. "Odin tells me everything, including his plans to use me as a peacemaker between Jotunheim and Asgard." Loki paused at that point, looking unfocused for a moment, but continuing. "Due to the stress from I finding out the truth and the repercussions of Thor's mistake, Odin fell into the Odinsleep to reclaim his strength. By that point Thor had already been banished to Midgard, so it was left to me to take the throne..."

Hel listens. She listens as Loki tells her about his plan to rid the nine realms of frost giants by essentially blowing up Jotunheim, listens as he tells her that he purposely led the frost giants into Asgard to kill Odin just so he could kill Laufey for Odin, listens as he tells her about the Destroyer he sent to kill Thor on Earth. She listens as he tells her about the broken Bifrost, tells her about the black hole, listens as he tells her the moment where he hung off the Bifrost with Thor and Odin and completely gave up and let go.

At the end of it, she... She's not sure what she feels.

She shakes her head, amazed at how empty she feels. In a whisper, she says, "Loki... I don't... I just..." She trails off shaking her head. " _How?_ "

He says nothing.

"How could you _do_ that? How could you... _Genocide_? Killing your biological father?" His expression darkens at that. "Trying to kill your _brother_?"

"He is _not_ my _brother!_ " Loki shouts suddenly, hands clenching and green eyes flashing.

She still doesn't know what to say. Hel just isn't sure what to _feel_ anymore. She shakes her head again. Quietly she says, "I... I think it's time I left, Loki. I'll... I'll be back later."

The trickster's anger drains away at that, leaving him looking defeated. "Hela, do not abandon me as well. Please."

She doesn't meet his eyes as she steps off the ledge and hugs the wrap on her shoulders around her tighter. "I'm coming back later. Promise. I just need to think for a while."

And she really, really does just need a quiet place to think.

\------

Whether it happens purposely or intentionally, Hel slips her way around the palace until she comes to the back of it by chance. The back of the palace is filled with beautiful gardens and fountains almost as far as the eye can see. Almost.

Just beyond the end of the gardens, there's a forest of looming trees.

That seems like a good place to go, she reasons as she begins trekking across the gardens. No Asgardians, no judgement, no Loki.

When she glances at the sky, it almost seems as if the light is setting, but its still hard for her to tell with the different constellations and moons. So she walks on, telling herself she has plenty of time, or at least hoping she does.

\------

An hour later, and Hel is certain of three things:

Her is starting to hurt from the alcohol. She is getting really cold. And this was most definitely one of her bad ideas.

(If she was ready to admit that she was lost, there would be four, not three, things she was certain of, but she wasn't ready to go so far as to say 'lost' yet. Just 'turned around'.)

But she _is_ getting really cold, and where the hell did this cold come from?

Hela shivers violently, hunched against the wind as giant snowflakes begins to fill the air and cake the ground. The wind howls. Snow pelts her skin, stinging like bees. It begins to build on the ground at an alarming rate.

It strikes her, then, that this is a blizzard.

And not a soul knows where she is. _Hel_ doesn't know where she is.

As the wind turns into a gale, it takes on an almost laughing sound. Hela's survival instinct kicks in and she pulls the wrap off her shoulders and tries to wrap it around her head and at least part of her shoulders. It helps somewhat, and she takes off toward the nearest tree to hunker down against the wind on the ground in the smallest ball she can get into.

It's the only thing she knows to do.

Maybe, she thinks to herself hopefully, they'll find me if I stay in one spot. Maybe.

It's gotten darker since the blizzard began, and it's a little intimidating. All she can see are the long dark forms of the trees in the whiteout of the blizzard and nothing beyond that. Not even Asgard's sky. A well of loneliness springs up inside her and she buries her head in her arms, drawing into an even smaller ball.

Her breathe freezes in her chest when a voice whispers through the howling wind in her ear. "Are you cold yet, maiden?'

Fear makes it impossible for Hel to look up. She squeezes her eyes shut.

There's a raspy laugh, clear as a bell in the winds. "I asked you a question, little maiden. Are you col-"

And as the question was being asked, she could feel a thin, cold hand laying on her shoulder. But just as the hand settled, it jerked back with a hiss, the question cut off midway.

" _Jotun blood_."

She barely registers what the voice says. Instead she dares sneak a peek while one hand feels through the snow around her for something to arm herself with. She really shouldn't be shocked by what she sees considering everything she's been through, but even so, she is.

Drawing back from her is a smallish figure wrapped in the furs of several animals, some she doesn't recognize. The figure appears to be a man, an old man, because the hands and wrists disappearing into the furs is thin and sickly with wrinkled skin. She can't see his face because his hood - made from a fierce-looking wolf head - covers the greater part of his face as he hunches over.

...And he's blue.

Her hand hits something big and solid, and she instantly grabs up the rock. Holding it high above her head Hel pushes back from the figure, even as he draws away from her.

"Leave me alone!" she hisses at the man, barely registering the snowstorm dying down around them.

He's shaking his head, muttering to himself. "Not possible.... It's not possible..."

As the wind begins to settle down and the snow stops falling, allowing for minimal lighting to reenter the tree, Hela feels the tension leak out of her as she stares at the old man. He almost doesn't seem like a threat anymore, just crazy because he talked to himself. Still, it was better safe than sorry so she kept her rock. "Who are you?" she asked in what she hoped was a bold tone.

That stops his muttering, prompting the fur-covered head to turn to her. There's a beat of silence before a suddenly much clearer, _younger_ voice says, "How kind of you to ask, though I do believe it is etiquette for the gentleman to ask the lady first. And so," he said as he suddenly walked closer to her, seemingly standing much taller and moving more easily, "who are you?"

Her jaw works for a moment before she sighs and grudgingly says, "Hel."

The man gives a small huff of a laugh and fidgets with the furs on his form. Now that he wasn't hunched over, Hel could see that he actually only had a large cloak made of mismatched furs and a matching fur vest while his shirt was made of worn, brown leather that hung loose on him and was torn from the collar almost halfway down his chest. His pants appeared to be made of a different material colored black and his shoes were simply furs wrapped around his feet and ankles and tied off with rope.

Blue lips quirk into a smile (and Hela swears that a just a minute earlier he had had an aged appearance to the part of his face she could see, but now he looked young) and he says, "I thought they taught maidens _not_ to swear these days?"

She was not amused. Rock now at her side, Hel says flatly, "I wasn't cursing. That was my name."

It surprises him, she can tell, just by the way he shifts and tilts his head the slightest bit. After a few moments he finally says in a contemplative tone, " _That_ Hel, then." She takes note of the slight accent, but doesn't recognize it. After another beat he smiles widely and says, "You know, some people around here _would_ consider your name a curse."

"Gee, thanks." Hel wishes for once that this guy would just be scared like everyone else and take off in the opposite direction. She really wants to find her way back now.

"So, Queen Hel, are you lost?"

She can't help but stare at him because just hearing herself addressed like that was weird. Shaking it off, she completely ignores his question and says, "You never told me your name."

"You _are_ lost." He's full blown grinning now, snow-white teeth glinting in the fading darkness. If she was kidding herself, Hel would have thought that his canines were similar to the fangs of the wolf head covering his head.

The man pushed back his hood back, revealing pale, blue sky skin and cold, mirthful indigo eyes. He looked to be in his early twenties, but Hel swears that he had looked older just a minute ago. A _lot_ older. His hair was white with an almost pearly sheen to it, illuminated more so by the moons rising in the sky.

He bows low and almost mockingly, a hand on his stomach and the other out-stretched beside him. "Jokul Frosti, at your service."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Jokul Frosti. 
> 
> There was in fact a Marvel superhero named Jack Frost, but he lived out his storyline a very long time ago and it was fairly short (compared to some storylines). Since I intended this Viking version to be a completely different guy, I figured it wouldn't matter. 
> 
> As for Jokul Frosti, well. I have a thing for very adverse and diverse characters. Some people may not like him very well later. 
> 
> Also: mythology is going to go more in depth later. Perhaps next chap. Actually that's quite likely.
> 
> NEXT CHAPTER: Jokul Frosti messes with Hel. (But it's only 'cause he knows more than he's letting on.) There's some trials, too, but Hel's not allowed in because it's her father on the stand (who refuses to let her be his unofficial lawyer). Oh, and there's magic.


	7. Collecting your victims

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep in mind, I started writing this before Thor 2 and I don't intend to include any of those events into this fic. Which means my take on the other realms is somewhat different.  
> Also, I'm so sorry this took so long. And I know I promised you certain things in this one, but I was having writers block and I wanted to get to a good stopping point because it was so long anyways.  
> EXCUSE MY MISTAKES, this all was written in the early morning hours over the course of a long time.  
> This chap is dedicated to my friend, who is the Pot to my Kettle.

Chapter 6: "Call me a traitor, I'm just collecting your victims, and they're getting stronger, I hear them calling." ~  _Monster_ , Paramore

Hel stared at the blue-skinned figure, running the name over in her mind. Her brow furrowed and she said, " _You're_ Jack Frost?"

The grin disappeared in a blink. Almost childishly, he stomped his foot with clenched fists and snapped, "Dammit, it's  _Jokul Frosti!_ "

Now with raised eyebrows, Hela held her hands defensively. "Sorry?"

Jokul glowered at something beyond her. "I  _hate_ that name."

"Yeaahhhh...." She trailed off, backing up a little now to hopefully make a run for it. "I feel ya. No one ever has wanted to call me by my actual name either, so..."

She was just taking her third step backward when Jokul split into a grin, and okay, yeah it looked pretty creepy. "At least they don't make bastardized versions of you in stop motion television."

Hel smirks a little at that. "True. Though I doubt that any rendition of me would exactly be a positive portrayal."

The frost - Spirit? She isn't really sure - walks closer even as she makes her slow escape. "Oh, so all the rumors aren't true, then? You don't capture souls and lead them to Niflheim? Or ride a three-legged horse about, reaping death and plague in your wake? And you won't have a hand in bringing about Ragnarok?"

Any amusement is gone now. She tries her best not to look irritated, but honestly, it's really annoying when everyone seems to know all about her and she doesn't know them. "Okay, I've never gone and 'captured' some soul and dragged it to Niflheim. Anyone who comes is dead on their own account. As for the horse, I don't have a clue what you're talking about. I've never even ridden a horse, three-legged or otherwise. And about the Ragnarok thing... Well. Everyone thinks I'm going to help snuff the universe and life as we know it, so I guess let them think that until otherwise." She pauses, then says, "You know you don't have to believe everything you hear, right?"

Jokul laughs brightly, rocking back on his heels. "Of course I know! If I was foolish enough to believe everything I heard, well, I'd be a very confused individual."

Hel just eyes him oddly. That hadn't been her point but whatever. It was time for her to leave. It was fully dark now, with only the glow of the moons lighting the forest. If she was gone too long, Thor was going to show up and it probably wouldn't be pretty. 

Clearing her throat, Hela clasps her hands behind her back (still with her trusty rock) and begins to pace backward faster. "Yeah... Well, I have to go, there's probably a search party looking for me that probably thinks I snuck off to start Ragnarok and they most likely aren't going to be happy-"

"Did you?"

She stops. "What?"

At this point Jokul crouches down to start dragging long, light blue fingers through the snow. "Did you sneak off to start Ragnarok? Word travels fast, and I know Loki is back on Asgard, in the dungeon. Maybe his new grand scheme is Ragnarok. Maybe you're helping him. You're his daughter, aren't you? What would you do to help your father?"

He watches her, face blank but eyes scrutinizing. 

Hel stares back, a little horrified. Was that what people saw when they looked at her? A girl out to achieve her father's love no matter the means? The rapid fire way he said it all made her feel like she was being interrogated. Made her feel cornered. 

In a quiet tone that held all her indignation and anger in the words, she said, "Loki may be my father, I may be his daughter, but I won't help him in destroying his life further. I haven't come to make more mistakes for him, only to fix what I can and hope everyone walks away."

Jokul toys with the snow in his hands, tone flat. "What if Loki doesn't want to walk away? What if he doesn't want his mistakes fixed? What then, Queen Hel?" He stands with the snow cradled in his hands, walking closer. For some reason (and she childishly tells herself it's not pride) she doesn't back up. "Would you do the right thing?"

Hela knows what he means, even as she stares up at him (he towers over her by a few good inches). She knows that he's asking if she would toss away any chance at a relationship with her father to possibly stop him from doing something comparable to the attack on Manhattan or Asgard.

And honestly, would she?

Something twists in her chest, making her grimace. The bracelet Loki gave her weighed heavily on her wrist, burning cold. 

Would she?

Hel lets out a breath through her nose, closing her eyes. In a whisper, she says, "Yes. I think I would."

She's not quite sure why she feels so disgusted with herself. This feeling is comparable to all the times she realized people were staring at her legs with unhidden shock and repulse, asking  _What's wrong with her legs?_  

She hates herself for saying yes, but for the first time she doesn't understand  _why._ Yes was the right answer. 'Yes' is what she would say, do, and yet... She hates that she actually means it. 

"Well then," Jokul's suddenly chipper voice breaks her thoughts and she opens her eyes to his grinning face. His blue eyes sparkle with something akin to mania. "That's a good enough answer for me. And you  _hesitated_. That's _great._ "

She frowns. "It's a  _good_ thing I hesitated?"

"Yeah, it means you had some inner turmoil over the answer and actually thought and  _felt_ for the right answer." 

She stares at him. The fact that he was right made him even creepier. 

"And since I liked your answer," he continues, "I think I'll take this conversation elsewhere." 

With that, he takes a deep breath and blows the powder-like snow in her face. The sudden attack stings her eyes and send her stumbling back in surprise, but even as she falls backward, scrubbing at her eyes, she can feel a sense of calm and heaviness falling over her. As Hel's back hits the ground, she struggles to keep her head raised. Her hands rubbing her eyes weigh a hundred pounds, so she lets them fall to rest on her chest. 

Her eyes don't sting anymore, so she half opens them just in time to see Jokul kneel next to her. She wants to say something, anything, as he sticks an arm under her neck and the other under her knees. More accurately, she wants to punch his lights out because she's pretty sure he just did magic on her and now he's lifting her bridal style, which is totally  _not_ okay. 

Her eyes lose their battle and finally close in sleep as she feels him jump upwards. 

\------

Hel opens her eyes to the cold halls of Elivdnir, already filled with dead souls waiting to be sorted to their afterlife. 

She stares at the mass of souls, and wonders how she's even supposed to do this now with all she knows. Sitting on a throne that has never changed throughout her entire life, wearing the same clothes she always is wearing when she wakes up here, with the same two loyal servants at her sides- 

This should still feel normal. It should be routine. 

And yet it isn't. Nothing feels the same. She feels like a stranger sitting in a too-big throne, like she's pretending to be someone else. 

In a way she is. There is no way she can go back to being the Hel that thought the same dream every night was something to be overlooked, the same Hel that sent souls to their fate without feeling the weight behind the action. Pretending to be that Hel is something she can't do now, not with what she knows. 

Hela sighs and leans against the arm of the throne, head braced on hand. 

And that's when she feels it. 

Her fingers touch smooth, cool metal. Frowning, she traces the metal in a thin line design across her forehead. She has a feeling of what it is, but even so she pulls it off her head.

In her hands is a shining silver circlet, the front twisted in a thin, subtle design. The veins of twisting silver have almost thorn-sharp ends, giving it a wicked appearance. In the middle of the design, what would be the middle of her forehead, is a small sapphire, smaller than a dime. 

She frowns at the circlet. Last she checked, she had had an actual tiara-crown thing. Why the change?

With one last glance at the waiting souls, Hel stands and walks down the steps to her maidservant, Ganglot. Ganglot's cool grey eyes watch her blankly as she steps up to her, holding out the circlet. "Why did it change?"

The maidservant doesn't move from her position of her hands behind her back, doesn't even change expression, just says, "Because who and what you are are changing. As you are in between changes, you are no longer queen."

That makes Hel frown, but she's not overly disappointed. She'd only recently found out the status was real. "So... I'm changing. So I got demoted. That's it?"

At that, Ganglot's unwavering expression flickers and she looks over Hel's shoulder to presumably shoot a look at her partner, Ganglati. Coming back to Hela, she says, "No, it is not quite...everything."

Hel waits for an elaboration. It never comes. 

"Okay, what do you mean?"

Her maidservant pauses, but after a brief hesitation she tips her head to the side, indicating the door leading to the other parts of Elivdnir. "There is something you should see, my lady."

Hel sticks the circlet back in her hair, smoothing it back in place. "Well by all means, lead on."

\------

"Despite how it takes sleep for you to get here, my lady, I can assure you that your time in this realm is no dream."

They had left the main hall, the souls vanishing as Hel left the room. Ganglot lead the way, seemingly knowing where she was going, while Ganglati trailed behind with his looming silence. The black and white halls were quite literally silent as the grave, and it unnerved her because of Ganglot's serious mood.

Turning another corner, Ganglot continued speaking. "If your time in this realm was a dream, well, you'd have no need for Ganglati and myself, would you? But as it is not, you most certainly do need our services."

Hel interrupted with, "So I'm not really sleeping?"

There was a hint of a smile in Ganglot's voice. "Oh, you are most definitely sleeping. Your body, wherever in the other eight realms, is getting its rest. But think of your time here as... a projection. What form you take now is your self-conscious projection."

"Then why would anything here hurt me?"

The maidservant turned to face her, grim now. "It would be the equivalent of a mental attack on your psyche."

"Oh," Hela said in a small voice, " _that's_ why."

They came to a stop outside a wooden door that looked like every other door they had passed, except for the fact that it had five different locks and runes carved into it. Ganglot didn't touch the door, instead giving it a wary look. "I'm afraid you will have to open it, my lady. It will only open for you."

To put it frankly, Hel didn't have a damn clue how to open the door, but with no better idea she just put her hand on the knob and turned. 

All the locks snapped open on their own accord and the runes flashed a bright blue light before fading. The door swung open easily. 

"That's so cool," she muttered.

Ganglot cleared her throat and gestured for her to go inside. They did, and as they did she resumed her speech. "As I was saying, Ganglati and I are capable of looking after you here, in the realm of the dead. But-"

As she talked she moved further into the room. It appeared to be some sort of library, with thick and thin dusty tomes, even scrolls. Some had odd languages on them, others didn't have any at all. At the far end there was a pedestal. On it rested a thick book open to the middle. 

"-out of this realm, we cannot watch over you." Ganglot came to stand by the book, looking down at it. "We cannot help you." 

With that, her maidservant looked up, and for the first time ever, she looked worried. 

She pulled Hel closer, pointing to a spot on the page. It took Hel a moment to focus on that, because the text on the page was odd, almost shifting, as if it wasn't sure if it wanted to stay or not. That, and it was in Norse. 

That little problem resolved itself within a few moments of staring at it. The gibberish became translatable, and Hel realized with a jolt that the lines of columns were names. Then her eyes landed on where Ganglot had pointed. 

In between all the rows of names, there was a blank. A blank where a name should be. 

Hel's brow furrowed in confusion. Okay, there was a name missing. It was probably pretty important, but she didn't exactly know what it meant still-

She was drawn out of her thoughts by a hand gripping her arm. Startled, she looked up to meet Ganglot's worried grey eyes. When the maidservant spoke, it was with an urgency that she had never her from her before. 

"Hela, you are defenseless without us. Yes, you have power, but you have never learned to control it, and there are many who would take advantage of that. _Please_ , be careful."

The teen can't help but stare at her, because honestly, she's a little freaked out. Normally, Hel might have tried to defend her own honor and pride by falsely saying that no, she is not in fact _defenseless_ , but she didn't. Ganglot and Ganglati never used her name alone like that (well, Ganglati never talked period, but that's beside the point). To see her other servant's reaction, she looks to Ganglati. The broad man is watching the entire thing with a stern gaze and his hand gripping his sword hilt. 

They really mean it. They're really scared. 

Looking back at Ganglot, Hel nods in a way she hopes is reassuring. "Yeah, I... Yeah. I'll be careful."

It doesn't look like it does anything to reassure her maidservant, but she nods anyway. "Would you be against both of us training you in defense? Maybe even offense?"

Hel thinks about the times she's seen the pair in action, and says, "Nope. That'd be pretty cool actually."

Ganglot smiles a little. "Good. Maybe I can even teach you some minor magic."

Now  _that_ would be really cool. But Hel doesn't get to say this, because her maidservant turns back to the book and slams it shut, closing her eyes. Then after a moment she opens them again and opens the book at the same time. It opens to quite literally the same page, but the text is different. There's a heading now at the top of the pages. Squinting at it closer, the text translates itself, and the columns on the pages are once again names, but this time there are some names that are highlighted in bright blue ink while the others remain black. Hel frowns at that, and looks to the heading of the pages.

_Souls of the Ninth Level_

She frowns even more at that. "Does that mean the-"

"Ninth level of Helheim, yes."

Something distasteful curls in her stomach at that. This list consists of all the people doomed to the worst level of Helheim. 

"So all the ones in blue. What about them?"

"Those have not been claimed yet." Ganglot's voice is suspiciously quiet and flat. Hel looks up at her to see her staring back apprehensively. "There is something you must see, my lady."

Without a word she places a finger by one of the blue names. Hela leans a little closer to read it, feeling a headache coming on as it's translated again. 

And her breathe freezes in her throat. 

_Loki Odinson_

\------

Hel wakes up with a gasp. The air is crisp and cool, but surprisingly she's not cold. 

Well. Most of her, anyway. Her face is freezing.

She sucks in the clean air, the events in Elivdnir still clear as a bell. Loki's name on the list of ninth level souls flashed before her eyes and she feels panic seize in her chest. Her father was sentenced to the worst level of Hel. He was literally going to hell. 

In the middle of her panic attack, a bright, chipper voice breaks in like a train collision and says, "Oh, good, you're awake."

It's so startling that Hel twitches violently, almost a spasm, and finally, finally takes in her surroundings. She's on her back, seemingly cocooned in what seems to be furs. The bright night sky above is lit with the moons and stars. She struggles to sit up, but she does, the furs falling off. They're in a clearing of trees and there's a small fire going not far from where she is. On the other side of the fire is Jokul Frosti, grinning at her. "Hello, Queen."

In that moment Hela remembers exactly what he did, and how much she wants to kill him for it. A sort of dignified anger sweeps over her and she spits, " _You_ -"

"Saved your royal ass from hypothermia," he said, ever chipper as he nodded to the furs. It's then that she also notices that there seems to be perfect ring of snow scooped away from her. "So save the anger. Which, by the way, did you notice your still human?"

She's still considerably angry considering the fact that this asshole just kidnapped her, so she wouldn't have needed any saving from hypothermia if she'd been left by herself, thank you very much, and now she's probably even further from- Wait,  _still_ human?

"What do you mean, ' _still_ human'?"

Jokul snorts, poking at the fire with a long stick. It doesn't appear to bother him, despite his winter origins. "Well, pretty much everyone knows what happened to you and your brothers when the Norns said you'd snuff the world. For you, Odin threw half your soul in Midgard and the other half in Helheim, or something like that, so you were essentially not Asgardian or frost giant or whatever the hell you are anymore. You were human, reincarnated several times over." He looks up at her then. "How was that, by the way?"

She glares at him. 

He shrugs and goes back to poking at the fire. "Anyways, one would think when you come in touch with real magic and your origins again, you'd be... Well. Not human anymore, I guess. But you're still as mortal as any Midgardian I've ever met. If you didn't have such a strong magic signature and I couldn't smell your frost giant blood, I'd think you were almost ordinary."

Hel tries to wrap her head around all that he said and understand it. "So I'm technically still human. How can you even tell that? And I don't know what magic I'd be carrying around with me, seeing as I don't  _have_ any magic." She paused, and then added, "And you can  _smell_ my blood? Do you even know how gross that is?"

The winter sprite sighs as if he regrets bringing up the subject because he didn't predict in foresight how utterly uninformed Hel was. Holding up a blue hand he ticks off on his fingers. "One, I can tell you're human because everyone just registers or looks differents. Dark elves look significantly different from dwarves, so appearance is a teller, but with beings like Asgardians and Midgardians, Asgardians carry a magic signature that identifies them. Even warriors like Thor who fight with brawn carry one because magic is just ingrained in the Asgardians. Get it?"

That actually made sense. She nodded. 

"Secondly, you do have magic. It's that little charm on your wrist." 

At that, she looks to the bracelet, fingering the charms and rubbing them back and forth between each finger in old habit. "This? But it was given to me. It doesn't do anything but-"

Then she stops, because she's about to reveal something ugly about herself willingly and why would she do that? Why would anyone do that? And even as she says it doesn't do anything, the images of the Avenger Tower lobby with the windows busted out flashes through her mind.

Jokul doesn't say anything for a moment, perhaps to let her finish, but then goes on to say, "It doesn't matter if it was given to you or not. It was crafted by magic.  _Weird_ magic."

He goes a little unfocused for a moment, but comes back as he ticks off a third finger. "Third, being able to tell lineage by blood is  _not_ that bad. At least I wasn't trying to smell your blood to see if you were good eating or something like that."

Seeing her horrified expression, he laughs, rocking back on his heels. "Oh, little Queen. You're in a new world now, one where there are more things willing to eat you than have a civil conversation. I suggest you get used to it quickly if you want to survive."

The calling of her old title queen snapped Hel out of her daze and the events from Elivdnir came back to the front of her mind. "I'm not a queen anymore," she says faintly, because her mind is on more important things. 

Like, oh, how her father is going to the worst level of Hel when he dies.

In the background she can hear Jokul question her about what she means by that and there's movement, probably him moving closer, but she is sinking lower and lower into a loop of panic and frustration. 

Loki was going to face the worst of the worst horrors in the ninth level of Hel when he died. Who knew when that was going to be, but considering his gung-ho mission to break out, find the rest of his banished kids, and get revenge for the many 'wrong doings' committed against him by Midgard and Asgard by tearing down the fabrics of civilization, maybe death was sooner rather than later. And if that was the case, then that meant one night Hela would wake up in Elivdnir to stare out at the crowd of dead souls waiting for souls and see her father. 

She would have to look him in the face and point to the ninth door. 

She would literally condemn him. 

Hel suddenly had tunnel vision. God, would Loki hate her when that happened? Would he try to fight back? Would he scream obscenities at her as Ganglot and Ganglati forced him through the ninth door-

" _HEY!_ "

Something burning cold was on her face, and it stung like hell. 

Hela sucked in a breath she didn't know she needed, falling backwards away from the frostbite hands of Jokul Frosti. She barely registered the worried look on his pale blue face, instead focusing on the cold because  _dear God_ she needed to get a grip. 

She sucked in big gulps of precious night air. Apparently she'd been holding her breath. While she tries to regain her composure, Jokul looks unsure of what to do with himself but nonetheless tries to straighten some of the furs on her blocking the worst bite of the cold. He actually looks a little ashamed, and she would be torn between laughing or just sitting in stunned silence if she wasn't busy trying not to fall back into another panic attack. 

"Sorry about that," he says, not looking up. "I thought I broke you. You weren't responding and had kinda," his lips quirk up," _f_ _rozen._ " He sobers again. "Anyway, you weren't breathing, and I'm pretty sure Thor would definitely kill me and Loki would find a way from his cell if you died on my watch."

Hel is staring at him now from her position of laying back on the ground, her breathing starting to even out. She has her hands clasped together over her chest, almost like she's praying. It's the position she's assumed in the past when a panic attack had happened before, but for much different reasons. 

The static in her head is beginning to fade away, and as it does she realizes she probably overreacted a bit. But it still doesn't mean it was any less reason to worry. She would just have to figure it out later.

For now, she pushes it aside before she freaks out again, instead focusing on what he says. Drawing her arms under the furs around her tighter, she says to him roughly, "You sound like you know them."

Jokul shrugs, dropping down unceremoniously beside her with his legs crossed. "I don't know Thor well, just reputation pretty much, but I know Loki." Something distasteful twists his mouth into a grimace and his brow furrows. "Well,  _knew_ him, anyway."

She starts to ask exactly what that means, because you can't  _un_ -know someone, but at that moment she really, for the first time since he had moved closer to her,  _really_  notices his features in the firelight. 

He looks to be her age now. Maybe a year older, but still.

What. The. Hell.

She opens her mouth to say as such, when all of sudden Jokul sits up with an almost feral look of alertness. His blue eyes are bright with adrenaline and his body is drawn tight as a bow as all his muscles are suddenly unnaturally still.

Then suddenly he stands in a flash, too quick to see, and-

Four figures suddenly burst into the clearing with yells of battle. Hel is not ashamed to admit that she screams. A grey, silver, and red blur falls from the sky, dropping straight down three feet from where she is. She can feel the resounding shockwave through the ground as Thor hits the ground. Of course, she can't tell it's Thor until he looks up with what has to be one of the most lethal looks she has ever seen. 

In response to all of this, Jokul laughs. He bows low to Thor, mockingly. "Thunderer." And with that, the boy (yes, he is in fact a boy almost her age now, Hel is quite sure) points a hand at Thor's feet. She watches with wide eyes as ice grows from the snow to encase the thunder god's feet. Thor realizes it too late, of course, but wisely doesn't touch the ice as it grows to his knees. 

Hel's afraid Jokul would've fully encased him in ice if she had not unfrozen herself from her petrified state to punch him in the shin. He's startled into stopping and looking down at her. "Stop!" she snaps, wondering why  _she_ of all people has to remind others not to kill people.

The sprite opens his mouth to reply (and if his expression is anything to go by, it was going to be snarky), but he never gets the chance because an arrow whizzes past his head, brushing his hair. 

Without needing further incentive, Jokul jumps  _into_ the air and flys away. 

She might be a little more in awe if he hadn't turned around as another arrow missed his ascent and flipped the bird, with a chipper taunt of, "Missed me, Asgardians!"

And the fact that three warrior guys and one woman were approaching her in full battle mode, looking like they'd put an arrow through  _her_.

\------

After convincing them that there's no need to point a cross bow at her head or a sword at her throat, Thor informally introduces Hel to the Warriors Three and Sif. After all, it's a little hard to introduce someone  _formally_ when you're almost halfway frozen up the legs and trying to get out of it.

Which was proving to be pretty damn difficult. 

Thor had wanted to try Mjolnir first, but when Hel mentioned the possibility of it shattering his legs along with the ice, he grudgingly put the hammer down. Now he was grumbling unintelligible things at her while they both worked at beating at it, Hel with a sizable rock and Thor with his bare fists, while his friends/backup/co-search party stood off to the side to give them a small privacy as requested. She didn't get a very good impression from them just because of the looks they were giving her, the same as pretty much everybody around here. 

Thor was either oblivious or didn't care. He was just focused on the ice encasing his legs. She could her him muttering oaths in Jokul Frosti's name. With a deep frown set in his face, the thunderer sighed and brought his fist down on the ice. It might have groaned a bit underneath the pressure. "Hela, running away," he lifted his fist again, "was not the wisest thing to do," he brought the fist down again hard, and this time hairline fracture cracks ran through it, "considering your current standing with the people of Asgard."

Hel sits back on the fur she'd spread out when they began their mission. "Well, you know, it's not like I asked everyone to be suspicious of me and what I do when I don't even know half of what's going on, Thor. 'Hey, people-I-don't-know, I look sketchy and there's an apparent prophecy about me helping in killing the entire universe, so feel free to judge!'"

Her uncle didn't respond, didn't even look at her. His face was set in determined, grim expression, and his mouth was pulled into a thin line. "Hela, did you know that I was not present for when you and your brothers were taken from your father?"

No, of course she didn't, Hel didn't have a honest-to-goodness  _clue_ about anything else around here, so why would she know that? But she just sat still, letting her confusion show on her face. 

He goes on with a sigh as he stands to his full height and glares at the ice. "When the decision was made to...send you away, I was on a hunting party in Vanaheim." He pauses. "There are times when I wonder if I was asked to join the party at that particular time so that I would be away when you were taken." He looks down at her, looking older than appearances could ever tell.

"I hope you do not think that your father ever handed you over willingly. He did all he could to protect you, but even the magic of a great sorcerer such as Loki could not hold up to Odin's magic." Thor's brow furrow and his sky blue eyes darken for a moment before his expression lightens. "And I want to make it clear to you that had I been there that day, I would have done everything within my power to stop it from happening as well."

She stares up at the thunderer, and feels small. Very small. She doesn't understand why he's telling her this, isn't even sure how  _he's_ so sure of himself and what he would have done. She has known this man for a few days at most, and he seems to care about her like he's known her her entire life. It doesn't make sense, because in Hel's experience people don't just _do_ that without an ulterior motive. She doesn't know what to say. So instead she just pull her knees to her and smooths out the dress (a little worse for wear at this point) the best she can. Focusing her eyes on the fabric, she asks, "Why are you telling me this?"

Then he smiles. "Because, the moment Loki told me I was going to be an uncle, I was in love with the idea of being able to teach you - _all_ of you - what I could to help you in life. I wanted to pass everything I had learned, all my battles, all my travels across Yggdrasil, onto you and your brothers, to teach you to learn from my mistakes. ...Such as allowing a frost spirit to freeze your feet." He gestures to the ice cast (and is it just her, or is it smaller than before?) and Hela smiles a little.

Thor the crouches down to her level as best as he can, rocking to keep his balance, but pays no mind to the obstacle. "And I am also telling you this, niece, because I want you to know that you do not have to run away anymore. As long as I am breathing, I will do everything in my power to protect and help you. I shall stand with you no matter what is said about you or what enemies you are facing. You shall always have my support. So please, do not ever think you have to run away because you are alone, because as long as I live you will not be."

Hel stares at him. She feels like there's cotton stuffed in her throat. She's just....in shock. In a low voice, she says, "That's... That's a tall order to fill, Thor."

He nods. "It was meant with the deepest of sincerity."

Her fingers play with the charms on the bracelet. "Only one other guy has ever made that same promise to me - well, it was kind of an unspoken but implied promise, but still - and he's managed to keep it so far."

"Ahh, you must mean Robert!" Thor says with a grin. 

She smiles back. _Bobby_. "Yeah. He's a good friend."

The thunderer's smile gets even bigger and blue eyes sparkle with...mirth? "Indeed, he is a  _very_ good friend."

Hel feels like she's missing something here.

Rolling with it, she just says, "Yeah, that's kinda what I just said..."

Her uncle chuckles a little. "He is also a good Midgardian for his age, with good intentions, I believe."

Hela decides not to mention that Bobby cheats at poker. Instead she just sits and revels in the ache of homesickness that comes with thinking about her best friend. His smiling face crosses her mind and her smile fades. If Bobby was on Asgard, she thought to herself, then this would all be a thousand times more easier.

Thor must see the look because he says, "Do not worry, Hela. It will not be long before you are back on Midgard with your friend."

The statement threw up a red flag in her mind. "Why do you say that?"

"Tomorrow Loki's trial before the Aesir begins. I...do not imagine that it will last long. They will be swift in their judgement, and after then, you will be returned to Midgard."

Hel felt as if the rug had been pulled out from beneath her feet. "So  _soon_?"

All she got was a grim look in return. 

She dropped her rock beside her. "That's- Thor! That's not fair!"

The thunderer's light blue eyes turned steely at her words. "Hela, Loki has caused much destruction and chaos throughout the nine realms. He may be your father and he may be my brother, but he still has to be punished for his crimes."

Hearing Thor say it himself added even more weight to the situation. Swallowing, she asked quietly, "Will they kill him?"

In the time it took her uncle to answer, the blue glowing words of Loki's name flashed through her mind and she almost missed his answer. 

"Normally, yes. But as Loki is technically still a prince of Asgard - even if not by blood - he will not be put to death. More than likely he will have to serve a sentence in some form of service to Asgard for a very long term. ...If not for forever."

Hel closed her eyes, wondering for the umpteenth time what she thought she was doing, or trying to accomplish for that matter. She sighed deeply before saying, "I know he has to be 'punished' or whatever. I know what he's done. I want him to learn his lesson, Thor, I  _want_ justice- But I also want him to have a chance to step up and be my father." She opened her eyes to find the god watching her with a blank expression. "He can't do that if he's stuck in a cell for the rest of his life."

"And just what are you willing to do," Thor asked quietly, "to make that happen?"

That was the million dollar question. What would she do? She sighed again, saying tiredly, "I don't know. I'll... I won't try to prove he's innocent, like I could even try, but I'll do something else. I'll be his lawyer, plead for a lesser sentence, lie my way through it, whatever. I just need him to get a lesser sentence."

"I think that is a high goal to achieve, niece. And not a very good plan."

"Yeah, well, it's the only one I've got," she retorted bitterly. She watched as Thor went back to chipping at the ice, which was most definitely shrinking on it's own. It only covered his feet by now. 

Thinking back on the research she'd done on Norse mythology, she didn't remember much about Jokul Frosti, but she did remember the different personas he seemed to have. Killer blizzards to playful frost sprite had been the wide range of different stories she read on the internet and at the librar-

A thought hit her. "Thor. Does Asgard have a library?"

\------

Hel didn't get much sleep that night. She had a deadline, after all. 

Thor must have known what she was going to do so he escorted her to the library quickly and left just as swift, promising to make sure her reading was uninterrupted. Which either meant he was standing guard or he was off distracting the people that would kick her out. 

From what Thor told her, the trial would begin about mid-morning. That gave her... Less than twelve hours. (Well that's what Thor had equivalated the time left to, anyways. She was tempted to thank him for dumbing things down for her but she figured it wouldn't be appreciated.)

Less than twelve hours to find the code and law section of the library, then scan who-knows-how-many books full of what was bound to be overly technical and complicated words to see if there was some sort of law, loophole, or lapse in the system that allowed for a smaller sentence. 

No big deal, she told herself, not quite sure if she believed it. She'd done entire research essays in less time. 

Then she saw the size of the library, and quite firmly believed that she had been lying to herself by saying, 'No big deal'. 

\------

It was so quiet in the library at this time of night. It was...as silent as the grave.

Hel giggled to herself a little, the page in front of her blurring into a mixture of Asgardian lettering and English alphabet. Then she sobered as another thought hit her. 

It was as quiet as the halls of Elivdnir. 

A deep weariness settled over her, her eyes half-closing in reverence of the realm and the rest it held. All she had to do was sleep and she'd be in a completely different world. 

Her eyelids fluttered, finally resting closed as the weight of exhaustion glued them shut. She could feel herself slip away, feel her will go with it. Her breathing evened out as her mind shut down. 

Weaving in her sleep, with her subconscious still trying to hold her upright, Hel finally slipped forward, the book in her lap falling to the floor with a thump and her face planting itself in the stack of books resting on the desk in front of her. 

Which, in return, knocked over said stack of books and caused a few of them to spill over the side of the desk. 

The books hit the floor with a resounding  _smack_ , which was enough to make Hela shoot up in her seat into the world of the awake with wide eyes and a clouded mind. 

 Her brain tried to kickstart once, twice, then on the third time remembered where she was and why, and unhelpfully reminded her that it wasn't even that late into the night. 

Hel took a deep breath and scrubbed her hands all over her face, willing herself to wake up. She, contrary to popular belief, was not someone who stayed up at all hours of the night plotting something (which is ironic that she is now). She liked her sleep, so why in the world would she waste that precious time of the night to exhaust herself even more? The latest she had ever stayed up was 4:30-something, when she and Bobby had tag-teamed an essay over Skype. 

So, yeah, this was getting to be pretty damn hard. 

"Dammit," she muttered aloud, looking at her pile of unread books and then the pathetic few books that had been read, all of which pertained to Asgardian laws or court in some way. The progress she was making was slow, especially since she had a splitting headache from her brain translating so much to English and the exhaustion. ...And maybe just a little bit of a hangover from the Asgardian alcohol, which seemed to be ten times more potent than real alcohol. (Not that _she_ would know, of course...)

Her gaze slid to the fallen books wearily. Some were still shut, even after the fall, while the others were open and page down. Well, except for the one that had managed to land open page up. 

With a sigh she leaned forward and plucked some of them off the floor, setting them on the desk. As she reached for the only open up book, she unconsciously scanned the page as Asgardian turned to English.

And she nearly dropped it again.

Just to be sure, she read and reread it a few times, half-mouthing to herself just to make sure she understood the words. And then, when she was done, she looked up from the book and stared unseeing at the shelves of the library.

She found it. She really found it.

A sense of joy and peace made her mind buzz, dampened by a sense of anxiety. Hel began to think about what this could mean, about the outcomes. As she did, she leaned back in her chair and hugged the book to her chest. 

Even with all the excitement shooting through her system like sparks in the dark, she eventually let her eyes close and her mind fall away.

\------

She wakes up warm and comfortable in her bed, golden light streaming in through the open windows. 

Hel takes a deep breath, still shaking away the last dregs of sleep. She pulls her arms out of the covers and stretches them above her head and winces. Her muscles cramp from sitting for so long in that chair last night-

Her eyes go wide. 

She sits up, trying to remember how she got in her bed and finds she can't remember. Which means she also doesn't remember where the book that held their Hail Mary in it is now. 

Trying not to freak out, she throws back the covers and makes to get off the bed-

-Only to find that she is no longer in her dress. 

Her face reddens as she clenches the fabric of the under slip she'd picked out the day before. What the hell. Someone had _undressed_ her-

She shakes her head, willing herself to let it go. It...wasn't important at the moment, she grudgingly admitted to herself. The book was more important, and also quite missing.

Her feet touch the warm stone floor as she stands, already moving in the direction of the wardrobe. In the back of her mind she can feel dread growing at the thought of even attempting to put the clothes on-

And that's when the door opens. 

Hel doesn't think she's ever moved so fast in her life as when she dove for the privacy of the bed comforter. 

It's a good thing, too, because Thor is the one that walks in, carrying a tray laden with food and a smile on his face. "Niece, I have brought you something to eat, as you slept through breakfast this morning." He sees Hel hiding under the covers, a big lump with black hair stick out, and frowns. "Are you ill?"

She stares incredulously at him, but the effect is probably lost because half of her face is covered by the comforter. "Am I-  _No_ , Thor, I'm not  _dressed._ "

"Ah, I see. Well, in that case I will leave the food here, but you should know that the trial is starting very soon, so eating quickly would be best-"

"Say no more," she interrupts, "I don't think I'll have to eat, anyways. Look, I just need to know- What happened to the book I was holding last night?"

The thunderer's face lit up. "When I tried to move you to your room I attempted to take the book, but you said in your sleep that it was important, so I carried it back here with you."

Hela tries not to think about Thor carrying her back to her room asleep to keep herself from feeling any embarrassment. She was probably drooling the entire way. Blinking away the image, the girl asks, "So where is it, then?"

"I believe the maidservants put it in the wardrobe when they prepared you for bed." 

Hel's face is probably cherry red by now. "Oh really. They did that." Without waiting for an answer she says, "Let me get dressed and I'll be out soon. Then we can go to that trial." She pauses before saying, "Thor, I  _really_ think I found something."

\------

 "What do you mean, I'm not allowed? That's- That's stupid."

Thor shrugged at her helplessly. "Only the higher Aesir and other realm leaders are allowed in trials such as this. Children have no manner in the courtroom. And there is the issue of Loki being your father..."

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Well, you're his brother. Sort of."

"But I am also part of the higher-ranking Aesir." He smiled at her wryly. "I'm sorry that you are disappointed, niece, but perhaps I could be your eyes into the court?"

You're going to have to be, she told herself, then sighed. "Okay, well, take this book then," she flipped it open to the space she had saved, "and read this passage. Then see what happens. Okay?"

He took the book from her, making it look tiny in his hands as opposed to how big it looked in Hel's hands, and smiled at her. "I have never been as much as a scholar as Loki, but that sounds like something even I can do."

She smiled at the joke, appreciating the thunderer's calm levelheadedness in the situation. "I didn't doubt you for a second, Thor."

He continued to smile at her in amusement, hand settling on the door handle. "Of course you didn't, niece." And with that he was gone into the courtroom.

\------

Hel blatantly ignored the glares she was getting from the two guards on either side of the double doors and pressed her ear up to the door. She couldn't barely even make out muffled sounds... Scowling, she moved sideways a bit and put her ear to the crack, hoping for better audio. 

"...law as old as myself..." A voice said. 

A different voice cut it off. "...loophole...case is irrelevant..."

Hela felt something akin to dread dawning on her. From the sounds of it Thor was doing a terrible job defending their case. Gritting her teeth, the teen banged her head on the door in frustration. She _hated_ being so helpless!

She sat there for a few moments, palms flat on the door and forehead resting against it. Then she came to a decision.

Before she could doubt herself, Hel put her hand on the door handle and pushed her way inside. 

\------

Everything went dead silent as all eyes turned to Hel. 

For a moment, her steps faltered, because  _damn_. Even she could feel the power buzzing in the room that seemed to come from the occupants. There was palpable energy in the air that seemed to rocket the tension sky high. Of all the people in the room, Hel only recognized Odin, Frigga, Thor, and Loki (who was back to being in the supped-up handcuffs and muzzle). There were six other people she had never seen before, all of them seated at a U-shaped table with Odin and Frigga at the head, or base, of the 'U'. Two ravens were perched behind Odin on a rather simple stand, beady eyes watching intelligently. Loki and Thor were standing in the space of the U-table, Thor with the book still open in his hands and Loki standing behind him a few feet, both of who had to turn around fully to see what everyone else was staring at. 

...Which would've been her. Right. 

So, yeah, Hel's steps faltered to a stuttering stop and for a moment she asked herself, 'What the hell were you thinking?' And then she promptly ignored it and resumed walking because the guards outside the door were already trying to follow her in the room. 

The eyes of the people followed her all the way to the table as she hurried. She could particularly feel the weight of Loki's stare, which if she actually looked was more of a glare. 

But that didn't matter. At least, it hopefully wouldn't in a few minutes.... 

Hela met the eyes of the only person in the room who she felt counted, blocking everything else out. Taking a deep breath, she said to Odin in what was her best steady voice, "The law of Asgard says that should a criminal of capital offense make a wager based upon the chance of them righting their wrongs, with a voucher to back them, they should be given the right to attempt so within a time limit. This law applies to Loki."

Odin said nothing. He didn't even twitch. 

That familiar feeling Hel got when she was being scrutinized in front of a lot of people was rising up and crushing the air from her lungs, setting off a spark of despair. Hands twisting in her skirt, she continued, even as the guards came up behind her and placed hands on her shoulders and arms. 

" _I_ will be the voucher."

 _That_ got a reaction out of some of the people, some of them jumping to their feet with protests while the others muttered to themselves. Loki and Thor were staring at her with wide eyes, the former looking almost murderous. 

Hel didn't fight the guards as they led her away, hoping that the point got across and that it gave them a different perspective. They were only halfway to the door before a voice called out, "Leave her."

With that one command, not only did the guards back off Hel and take their exit, but the strangers that were in uproar over what she said quieted down instantly. Hesitantly, she turned around, almost a little too hopeful. 

Odin was staring back at her solemnly, like this whole process tired him. She wondered briefly if it did. He waved her forward again and she walked back to the U-table, hands clasped in front of her. He stared at her from his seat, face impassive. Then, "Do you realize what being a 'voucher' means?"

Hela's hands twisted in her skirt. "Yes, I do."

"Then you do realize why it would be blatantly unfair to the laws if you yourself were to vouch for Loki."

She nodded. "I get that me being his daughter is something that would make being a voucher unfair, but it wouldn't be if the wager Loki made was altered."

Odin tilted his head slightly. "Explain, then."

"Yes," a frigid, scathing voice cut through and Hel's head whipped around to face one of the people at the table; an unnaturally pale woman with dull hair white as snow that went past her shoulders dressed in dark robes. "Let the abomination explain."

Hel was used to being called things, but abomination was one that had hardly ever been used. The sheer venom and disgust laced in the syllables left her feeling weak. 

Then a heavy hand settled on her shoulder and Hel was snapped back to reality by the looming presence of Thor. She couldn't see his face, but she could physically feel the tension in hand on her shoulder, so he was probably glaring. 

It made her feel a little bit better about her current situation. And what she was about to say...

Slipping back into lawyer-mode, Hela spoke in a dignified and certain tone. "As per Asgardian law, the defendant on trial may choose to take a binding oath, sealed with dark magic, and vow to right their wrongs within a time limit so long as they have a voucher to speak in their favor. Said voucher cannot help the defendant in filling the oath or it would automatically be void. And if the defendant does not turn over a new leaf by the time limit is up..." She took a deep breath, "the price is their life."

If looks could kill, Loki would've obliterated her at this point. 

Before anyone could interrupt her, she continued on. "My point is, well, the wager that the defendant has to take can be altered. In this case, I don't think Loki would care too much if it was his life tied to some dark-magic-death-bond-thing, but if he took the oath and I not only vouched for him but also wore the seal of the oath, meaning it would be  _my_ life at stake-"

" _Hela_ ," Thor interrupted her, spinning her around to glare at her, "that is  _not_ what we agreed to."

She squinted up at him, feeling a little exhilarated from the adrenaline rushing through her. "We only agreed on finding a way to keep him from not getting killed," she said lowly, "and this was the only way I can think of."

As she turned back around, she couldn't help but think aloud, "Besides, it's not like I haven't died before."

There was a snort from somewhere in the room. Hel tried not to look around at the faces in there to see who it was, because she thought they all hated her, so why would they laugh? ...Unless they just didn't like her so much that her death was amusing-

A blur dropped down right in front of her, all brown and blue mixing together. Hel gave a dignified squeak and jerked backwards into Thor, who immediately pushed her behind him. The people at the table including Odin were already rising with weapons themselves, ready for an attack. 

Then the intruder stood up, and Hel couldn't help but think,  _Seriously?_

Jokul Frosti stood before them, still looking as untamed and wild as he had in the woods where she had first met him. He had a smirk on his face as he crossed his arm over his waist and bowed mockingly. "Hello, Not-Queen."

She raised an eyebrow at that and muttered, "Jerk."

Thor all but growled at the sprite, taking a step forward. "You-"

"-are here as the representative from Jotunheim," Jokul interrupted. Straightening, his arms disappeared in his cloak of furs and he tilted his head to the side. "They're still a bit touchie about what Loks over there pulled not too long ago. Race extinction is something kind of hard to get over." He finished with a sharp grin as cold as ice that lacked any humor.

Then suddenly his icy demeanor was gone and the smile was back, and he was turning to walk to the side of the room. "But please, don't let my interruption keep you from getting back to her noble proposal." 

Hel glared a hole in his back as all attention suddenly turned back to her.

She sighed, but continued with what she had been saying. "Like I said, it would be my life at stake, not Loki's. He'd still be taking the oath and having to complete it and I would still be his voucher. By being his voucher, it ensures that I won't try and help him just because it's  _my_ life at stake." She paused. "Even without being his voucher, I still couldn't help him because any help he receives makes the oath void, therefore killing me."

She heard a soft noise at that and turned to see Loki staring at her with pleading eyes, almost saying, _Please just stop now_. _  
_

"And what if your life means nothing to him? What if you _are_  faced with death?" 

Her attention was drawn to a bald man dressed in... Was that metal plating? He had red-orange skin that almost seemed to glow a bit in the morning sun of the courtroom and stared at her with eyes that  _did_ glow a burning amber. He stared at her questioningly in an open way.

Hel took a few moments to think about his questions. Her first instinct was to say that Loki  _did_ care about her life, but she swallowed that urge. She'd seen his determination and wrath in person, and she'd seen his destruction on Earth on TV. She wasn't willing to be so naive and go ahead and say that she was absolutely certain Loki would put her above his revenge. 

Which made this entire thing a gamble, when she thought about it. 

Instead, she answered the red man's second question. "I've already died on Ear- Midgard so many times. I'd like to think I wouldn't be afraid if it happened again, but considering the two likely options of what would happen after I died, I think I would be."

"And what would those two options be?" He asked point blank.

The room was dead silent as Hel swallowed nervously. _Why does it even matter?_  It wasn't something she liked to talk about, let alone think about. "The first possibility could be that I wouldn't be reincarnated again because of what I know now, about Asgard and myself. I'd be forever stuck in Helheim as I should've been from the start."

She ignored the white-haired woman's 'And should be now' comment.

"The second possibility would be that the cycle would continue and that I  _would_ be reincarnated again, no matter what. I..." She faltered a bit, "I wouldn't remember anything. It would start all over again."

There was a heavy silence in the room as she finished. The red man continued to give her a scrutinizing look, but she managed to see the faint nod. 

"Hela," Odin's voice rang out like a shock, making her head snap around to him. "We need to discuss this new proposal in privacy. If we accept it, then you and Loki both must be ready to accept the consequences."

She nodded tiredly, allowing Thor to guide her out of the room with a hand on her shoulder. Not a word was spoken by the others as they watched them walk through the doors, which shut behind her heavily. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, so sorry. Both for not updating and promising things and not keeping those promises.  
> Comment! I love comments. Even if it is to tell me to hurry up or shut up.  
> Excuse the grammatical and spelling errors, I tried my best in the wee hours of the morning.  
> This chap is dedicated to my friend, who is the Pot to my Kettle.


	8. Show them all you're not the ordinary type

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *pretends like it hasn't been over a year since last update and publishes what could pass as a filler chapter*  
> Hey, guys... *little wave* Sorry it's been so long. School does that to me.   
> So I ended this chapter a little more abruptly than I would've liked. I was going to write more, but then it hit me that if I kept going that it would end up seriously long. Besides, some of the best bits are in the next chap. :)   
> Enjoy.

Chapter 7: "Let's kill tonight! Kill tonight! Show them all you're not the ordinary type" ~ _Let's Kill Tonight_ , Panic! At The Disco

Normally, Hel was patient. 

It was something that had become a learned virtue over the years. Initially, she'd found it incredibly hard to listen to Bobby talk for hours, but now she had figuring out how to weed out the important details from Bobby's long-winded and (sometimes) pointless rants down to an art. She'd also had to deal with the foster care system with a considerable amount of patience, being one of the more 'troublesome' cases that apparently had ever crossed their desks and thus eliciting a fair amount of frustration on her caseworker's part. 

(There was also the patience where she dealt with bigots and bullies, where (most of the time) she for the most part was able to ignore them. But she doesn't really like to think about those occurrences, it only reminded her of how  _angry_ she was in those instants and that such restraint was too precarious, too close to the snapping point, to be called something as simple and plain as 'patience'.)

Even so, she doesn't think any patience she's learned over the years could have prepared her for this  _waiting_. 

Thor had escorted her back to her room, fully planning on 'staying until the decision came to pass' when a woman - weren't they called maidservants? - stopped them just down the hall from the big doors to her room and whispered in Thor's ear after a side glance at Hel. She watched as a troubled expression crossed the thunderer's face before he dismissed the woman with a 'thank you' and then stood silently, seemingly conflicted. 

Still, Hela waited patiently. 

After a moment, Thor said, "Hela, there is a...situation that requires my attention in the dining-"

She's waving him off before he can even finish. "It's fine. I can handle waiting by myself for a while."

"Are you sure?"

She smiles at him, trying to look reassuring. "Yeah, you go do what you have to do. I'll be okay." 

Her uncle continues to stare her down with a searching blue gaze for a few moments before deciding her words are valid enough and smiling brightly. "Very well." He hesitated for half a second before reaching up and patting her head. "Everything well be okay, Hela."

Hel holds back a cringe at the pat on the head because she's not sure if she should feel offended or touched by the gesture. She can only guess how much experience Thor has with kids... 

Being treated like a pet aside, the teenager  _did_ appreciate the obvious attempt to comfort her (even if she doubted how 'okay' things would be after this). "Thanks, Thor. That really means a lot."

The thunderer seemed to brighten at that before hurrying off in the direction of where the 'situation' was. Hel watched him disappear around the corner with a sigh, partially relieved. She knew he had good intentions, but she didn't think she could handle the overwhelming presence of Thor right now. 

Shutting the door to her room, the teenager leaned back against the frame, crossed her arms, and shut her eyes. Exhaustion weighed down on her body, making her eyelids heavy, yet at the same time her mind was so alert and racing that it made it almost feel like her skin was buzzing. 

A small smile quirked on her lips. The sensation wasn't unlike the time she'd drank three energy drinks with Bobby in a competition to see who could stay up longer during the summer. Hel had lost, falling asleep after almost forty-six hours (and now she wonders if her defeat had had something to do with her apparently very real duty as queen in Helheim). 

"Do you always smile to yourself when you're alone? That's a creepy habit."

Hela's eyes flew open and she was so startled by the blue face inches in front of her own she fell off balance with a gasp. 

The intruder gives an airy laugh, indigo eyes twinkling. Jokul Frosti doesn't even bother to hide the amusement on his face as he sticks a hand out. "Need help, Not-Queen?"

She's so pissed off that she actually slaps the hand away before rolling to the side and standing on her own. She barely notices how cold the hand that was offered was. "What the  _hell_?"

"Cursing your own name, that's new," the winter spirit says almost thoughtfully.

"Get. Out."

"Weellll," he drawls, "I  _originally_ planned on just going back to my merrymaking business after they kicked me out of the meeting, but then it occurred to me, 'Why shouldn't I pay the Not-Queen a visit and keep her company while a bunch of stuck up assholes decide if her father should die and if she should be locked in Helheim?' And so I did."

Hel  _really_ wants to stay mad, but even as she tries to hold onto her anger she can feel it draining away into curiosity.  _Dammit._ "Wait, they never said anything about..." _  
_

As she trails off, he quirks a white eyebrow. "You?" Jokul snickers. "Come on, you didn't honestly think they thought you were safe enough to let you run around. To them, you're a ticking time bomb. They're just waiting until you bite off someone's hand and spin out of control."

She stares at him for a few moments, trying to tell if he's lying. When she doesn't see any deception in the cold, blue eyes, a chill settles over her and her mind goes blank. 

Without a word, Hel goes to the bed and sits heavily on the edge. She stares at her hands and wonders - not for the first time - what's she gotten herself into. 

Because apparently it wasn't just Loki's freedom at stake here. Because she was apparently dangerous in the eyes of strangers. Because apparently, by fighting for Loki's freedom, she had put her own at risk.

Hel wasn't afraid of death. She wasn't afraid of the chance that they did bind her with the seal, tying her life with Loki's actions. She wasn't afraid of dying because of Loki making a mistake and nullifying the deal, simply because she didn't think he would with her life on the line. Therefore, she was okay with tying her life to a gamble. 

But she wasn't willing to spend the rest of her life (however long that was) in such a cold, desolate place as Elivdnir. She'd rather die. 

There was a light touch on her shoulder. "Hey, are you okay?"

Hel blinks at Jokul slowly, trying to register his suddenly much younger appearance. Just a minute ago he looked to be in his twenties, and now he was more her age. Shuddering at her dark thoughts, she asks as a distraction for herself, "Why do you keep changing age?"

The winter spirit takes a step back, scrutinizing her a bit longer before looking down at himself. "Ah, that. You finally noticed."

She's tired too point out she had already noticed and just never had the chance to ask. 

Continuing on, he says with a sigh, "I was cursed. By a witch." A pause. "Well, sorceress, but she might as well have been a damn witch... Anyway, now my age changes depending on my mood, emotions, mental state, whatever you want to call it. That's how the varying range of myths and stories about my age developed in Midgard."

Hel nodded, still not that sympathetic. "Did you deserve it?"

Jokul looked startled. "What?"

"The sorceress that cursed you. What did you do to her to make her curse you?"

His jaw dropped. "Nothing! Ask your freaking father, it was his fault."

Hela tilts her head slightly at that. "You act like you know Loki."

Jokul's offended expression drained away to a blank neutrality, his appearance aging literally in front of her eyes to that of a man in his late thirties. Weary indigo eyes stared past her. "Well, let's just say that while your father and I had a lot of fun when we were both younger, he wanted something I couldn't give."

The teenager stares at the reminiscent winter spirit flatly, distinctly unimpressed with the explanation. Mentally shrugging, she resolved to get it from Loki later. Answers were easier to extract from the trickster with the right words it seemed-

She froze in mid-thought, a new chill settling over her. She might not get to see him again if the decision went the wrong way...

"Hey, you're not about to space out again are you?"

Hel blinks, looking up at Jokul. "Sorry, I just..."

"Firstly, stop apologizing. I hate that. 'Sorry' doesn't fix things, so why say it in the first place? Take action or something. But whatever. Secondly, if it...," he huffed almost resignedly and grimaced, "... _makes you feel better_ , I think they'll accept your proposal."

"Really?" Hela brightened for a moment, then looked at him dubiously. "Wait, why did they kick you out of the meeting in the first place?"

He waved a blue hand around lazily. "Eh, something about maturity and responsibilty and actually being qualified to make the decision or whatever. It didn't matter anyway, the guys back on Jotunhiem made it pretty clear that the only way they'd be happy was if Loki was dead. So they would've been a deadset 'no' even if they had heard your proposal."

"So it has to be a majority vote."

"Yeah. Which is why I wouldn't worry too much."

"But... I'm pretty sure almost every person hated Loki."  _And me, too._

Jokul grinned brightly. "But see, that's the good thing! They hate him so much they want to see him suffer!"

Hel stared at him briefly before edging away slightly on the bed, wondering if anyone would actually come to help if she screamed about the lunatic in her room. 

"Oh, don't be like that. What I mean is that they want to see him at his lowest point, and if they all talk about it together, like the sadistic bastards I know they are they'll come up with the conclusion that Loki will inevitably fail if he takes the oath and thus kill you. So then he'll have killed one of his own children, his only daughter, and they'll have the chance to see him suffer before they kill him."

Hel wondered if all Asgardians and other planets were secretly this cruel and bloodthirsty. "It's nice to see you have such strong faith in my ability to make this plan work."

"I didn't say I didn't think you wouldn't be able to make it work. I'm just saying that they think that."

The teenager hummed, not really caring if he thought she could make it work or not. After a few moments of silence, she sighed and said, "I miss Earth."

"Why?" he asked curiously. 

"Because things were so much simpler there. People hated me there, too, but it was just because I looked different, not because I'm supposed to bring about the apocalypse or something catastrophic like that. Here, people are afraid of me. ...I miss  _humans_ , with all their flaws-" She shook her head. "This is ridiculous. I've always on some level felt angry towards the general human population because of how I got treated, which I know is in some ways unfair." A small rueful smile. "Bobby would laugh at me if he heard me say that."

Then she sighed. "I miss Bobby the most."

Jokul was grinning almost crazily. "Who's 'Bobby'?"

Hel glared at him. "No one  _you_ need to know about, asshole."

"Ooh, maybe I should tell Thor about your dirty mouth when he gets back. But I guess that'll still be awhile..."

"He'd be too busy trying to kill you to care," Hel sniped back, only half-sure. "And how do you know if it'll be awhile? He could walk through that door any minute."

The winter spirit shrugged, suddenly inspecting his nails. "Well, speaking from experience, my ice is pretty hard to break through, let alone melt, and not  _all_ Asgardians have magical flying hammers, you know, so the chumps stuck in the Dining Hall are in for a wait since Odin is in the all-important meeting."

Hela stared at him, struggling with what Jokul was implying. "Are you saying that you froze the doors to the Dining Hall shut?"

"Are you deaf or just stupid?"

Hel almost hit him. Almost.

"Yes, that is what I'm saying, Not-Queen."

" _Why_?"

"I already told you. I thought I might pay you a visit. But I couldn't do that with your blonde bodyguard hovering around, could I?"

"I...really don't get you."

Jokul shrugged. He looked almost twenty now, a few inches taller than her. "That's okay. Most people don't. Now," he said, quirking a small smile, "how much magic do you know?"

\------

"Thor's probably looking for me now..."

"Thor is most definitely still trying to save a couple dozen vikings from the Dining Hall, I can assure you. Stop being such a worry-wart. Tch. Just like Loki."

Hel grumbled, kicking a half-melted lump of snow and pulling the cloak around her tighter. The forest, which had seemed so confusing and eerie the night before, now looked almost beautiful as sunlight shined in on the snow and iced trees dripped with melting drops.

Jokul walked ahead of her confidently, seemingly to a known location. Hel trudged along behind him, maybe with a little too much blind trust.

The frozen journey finally came to a literal stumbling halt as Hela ran right into Jokul's back, too focused on her private game of stepping right in his preceding footsteps in the snow. The winter sprite made an irritated noise, but said nothing as he turned around.

And then she finally saw where they actually were.

It looked like the crumbling remains of an old amphitheater, surrounded by pillars swirling in beautiful, twisting designs. Through the quickly melting snow dead weeds could be seen protruding up through cracks in the half-crumbling seats and ascending steps. When Hel looked down and around her feet, she realized that the part they were standing on would've been considered the stage, though the stone was riddled with spiderweb cracks all across and still harbored piles of snow here and there. At one time the amphitheater may have seated up to five-hundred people, but now it was dead silent; wind blew around the pillars and up the seats, rustling the trees and setting off the crackling of ice in the frozen limbs. 

With a small shiver, the teenager turned around- And saw the stone banner running proudly across the top of pillars, uniting them all. The Asgardian characters engraved elegantly across the banner reorganized themselves before her eyes into English:

_Theater of Masks_

There was another word before 'Theater', but it looked as if it had either eroded away or been forcefully removed. Hel didn't have time to examine it much more before Jokul called her attention back.

"It's...pretty awesome, isn't it?" The winter sprite said behind her, voice quiet and almost subdued. "This place has seen a lot. It was originally a theater for plays and whatnot, but somewhere along the line it got turned into a sparring theater."

Hel suddenly felt a little less in awe of the theater and a little more sick to her stomach as dread seeped in to weigh her down. She turned around slowly to face Jokul, as if that would make the realization sink in slower. "You mean..."

"Animals and people alike were pitted against each other in fights to the death." Jokul's blue eyes were flat and hard but grim, like the black ice on roads that drivers know is there and dread but can't see. "And people paid good money to watch, too."

It struck Hel then how much Asgardians and humans were truly alike in their bloodthirstiness. 

"That's why I brought you here, you know," the sprite continued on in a dull tone, turning away. "I wanted to see if your magic reacted to the souls still stuck here."

The breath stuck in her throat, and she barely managed to stutter out, " _W-what_ _?_ "

He looked over his shoulder at her and smirked almost arrogantly. His age was in the twenties range now if she had to guess, making the smirk look sharp and charming on his now youthful face. "You have magic in you, Not-Queen, whether you know, like, want it, or  _not_. I can feel it around you. Whether or not you can use it, I don't know, but you should sure as hell be able to at least  _sense_ other energies so closely related to your own medium."

Hel wasn't sure whether or not to be frightened or confused by what he was implying, so she settled for confused. "'Sense'? 'Energies'? 'Medium'? _What_?"

Jokul heaved a weary sigh before turning away from her and scuffing his animal-skin boots against a pile of snow. "First of all, a few examples to clarify what a medium is: mine, obviously, is ice." To prove a point he flicked a hand out, and in the same motion a dagger of sharp, clear ice formed around the fingers of blue hand like a glove. He displayed it for her, showed how the sun glanced off it and how the ice ended at his wrist. 

Shooting her a dark grin, his asked, "Wanna see how sharp it is?"

Hela glowered at him darkly enough to get the point across. 

The winter sprite huffed a laugh, but refocused on his dagger of ice. "Like I said, it's my medium, and like any artist, I can do more than one thing with it." As he was speaking, he brought both hands together and rolled them once before opening his palms and showing her. 

In his palm sat a large ice snowflake, looking too delicate and thin to have been made from the dagger he'd just been showing off. 

"And yet..." Jokul continued, "ice doesn't always have to be in a hard, solid form." He cupped his hands again, then opened them to reveal nothing but a pile of snow. 

Hel had to admit, she was impressed. Magic was something she'd only recently been introduced to, and even more recently seen in first person. To see it this close...

"So you're saying everyone that does magic has a medium?" she asked.

He shrugged, dropping the snow and brushing off his hands. "Technically... But not everyone  _uses_ it, per say..." _  
_

Hel was getting  _so_ tired of asking everyone two or three times to explain things. "Look, just pretend I don't know anything and explain  _everything_ in one go, okay?"

She knew she should've reconsidered her words when a mocking grin nearly split Jokul's face in half. "Pretend you don't know anything? That shouldn't be  _too_ hard to do, Not-Queen..."

She wanted to hit him. So. Much.

"Like I said and showed, I use ice as my medium. But not everyone uses theirs in their magic. Take Odin, for example. ...I'm not sure if anyone knows what his medium is, but he can do just about anything, and doesn't use some special flare like me. There are others, who use a combination of their medium and any old sorcery they may know. Your dad is a good example of that."

"What's his medium?" Hel interrupted.

"I was getting to that, wasn't I?" Jokul sniped back. A smile played on his lips, threatening to spill out. "Take a guess at what it is."

She gave him a flat look. "I can count on one hand the number of times I've had a decent conversation with Loki, let alone met him face to face. I don't think I've even seen him do magic."

He snorted, looking a little sheepish. "I forgot about that... Probably woulda gotten it wrong anyways." He shrugged, but said, "Loki's medium is light."

Hel took a minute to think that over, because,  _light_? Really? What the hell did someone do with light?

"Yeah, I'll just explain it to you before your brain fries, genius. You might've learned about light waves in your Midgardian science classes by now, and if you did they probably told you about the colors not being absorbed being reflected, right?"

Hel actually had covered light waves back in middle school, but she hadn't ever exactly been an A+ student and never planned on building rockets for NASA, so really only the interesting things like human anatomy or DNA coding stuck with her.

Jokul scowled slightly at her clueless expression and sighed. "Kids these days." Shaking his head, he continued on.

"The colors we see are the ones not absorbed by the object or organism. They reflect back in light waves. Loki manipulates the light waves. I think the way he explained it to me was that he twists them so that people see what he wants them to see. So, like, if he wants to look like a completely different person, he just tweaks the light waves surrounding his body. He can even create mirages, which are like holograms of a sort. Frigga - his mom, you know? - was actually the one who taught him how to do it all. But Loki came up with a way to change something about the light so that his holograms had texture and feel, so that if there was like five Lokis and you knew four of them were nothing but air, you couldn't just go slashing your hand through each of their bodies till you hit flesh. He made it so the illusion didn't just look real- They  _felt_ real."

Hela listened intently (how couldn't she, he was talking about her supposed father who she knew  _nothing_ about), but she couldn't help but notice how Jokul seemed almost proud when speaking about Loki.

It was strange, and it almost made her miss what he said next. 

"But like I said, Loki doesn't just rely on his medium. He uses regular sorcery, too, which he learned from Frigga, myself, and himself. He self-taught himself a lot of stuff...

"Anyway, different people with like mediums are able to sense each other. So if I was near some bloke that also used ice or snow in some form of magic, I could feel that energy before I actually saw him. Pretty much any adept magic user can sense just plain magic energy, but magic mediums have special identities." 

At this point Jokul's eyes wandered to the overgrown ruins surrounding them. "Considering your background, I would say your medium is death itself." Then he shot her a bright grin, as if he had just made some great joke. 

Hel couldn't help but feel repulsed at the idea. Death? Really? "That's...sick."

"If you mean sick as in 'cool', yeah, it's pretty 'sick'." The idiot was still grinning at her like a child with a new toy. 

"What if I don't  _want_ that kind of magic? I don't... Death is... How do you even use death as a magic? And what if that's not my kind?"

Jokul shrugged. "There's only one way to find out."

"How?"

"Close your eyes."

Without a second thought Hel did so.

Her eyes closed, she was able to hear better the rustle and creak of the ice-covered trees, the drip-drip of melt hitting the stone ground, and her own breathing. Apprehension building, she waited for Jokul's instruction.

After a few moments of heavy silence, she heard Jokul say gleefully, "You're so naive it's cute."

Irritation sparked in Hela and her eyes flew open, about to snap back an insult-

-Just in time to see the frost sprite aiming a dagger of ice at her face.

Hel barely managed to jerk back out of the way with a surprised gasp. The razor-sharp ice clipped her right cheek anyway, slicing a thin line as she felt the breeze from Jokul's hand flying past her. Beyond that dagger of ice, a look of bloodthirsty glee adorned his face.

Her balance off now, Hela fell backwards in shock and something that was starting to feel like fear. She tried to scrabble back away from her sudden attacker, but Jokul stepped forward and ice spread lightning quick from his feet, covering one her hands up to the wrist and effectively cementing her in place. 

Terror clenched inside of her and all rational thought went out the window. Hel fruitlessly pulled at the ice as Jokul loomed over her, still grinning manically. "First rule of combat."

She was unable to dodge his foot as he kicked at her chest, stepping down in the same motion and pinning her to the ground with a foot resting heavily on her neck. Her free hand grabbed onto his foot on her neck, clenching at the strappings holding the leather of his boot together. Jokul leaned forward slightly to press down, making it further harder to breath as both fear and his weight cut off her air. "Never, ever,  _ever_ take your eyes off your enemy."

He leaned down closer to her face, now serious and looking thirty years old again. His ice dagger came to a rest on her cheek, just below her eye. She didn't dare move.

Voice low, Jokul said, "The same mistake could very well cost you your life someda-"

Something inside Hel fractured and then broke. The fear disappeared instantly as a cold void replaced it. 

At the same time Jokul's expression faltered, she automatically threw a hand out and reached, grasping nothing, and  _flung_ it back at him with all her might. 

Something solid and black as night responded, ramming into a surprised Jokul from the side and knocking him off of Hel. Reacting purely on instinct now, she twisted her trapped hand and the ice surrounding it broke with a  _crack_. In a flash she was up and summoning more power to her fingertips. It was only as she saw the black shades from the pillars and her own shadow stretching and pulling did she realize what exactly it was she was controlling. At this realization, the shades dispersed.

There was a groan from a few feet away. Jokul was laying on his back, looking slightly dazed. He met her eyes, wearing the same frozen, blank expression. Hel was frozen for a moment.

And then she ran.

A sharp, biting laugh echoed after her. That was all that followed her, but Hela was too afraid to realize that the crunching of leaves was from her own feet and the shallow breaths were her own. And so, on she ran. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Abrupt, right? :P  
> I have to say that I don't know when I'll be updating again. With work, homework, school, and then planning for college (crazy, right? who needs education pssh not me), it could be a little while. But I definitely will try not to let it go on as long as last time. (Sorry about that again.)  
> Next Chapter: The jury's in!! And Hel's more than a little freaked out. She lets everyone know, too.

**Author's Note:**

> So do Hela, Jormungandr, and Fenrir count as OC's since I'm giving them personalities?


End file.
